


The Way Back

by Raine_Wynd



Series: Author's Favorites [25]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brothers, Commitment, Established Relationship, Family, Foul Language, In-Laws, Love, Medical Inaccuracies, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 15:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11992950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: Finding the way back home - and to point of acceptance with where home is - is not a straight line, especially when you're Eliot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dine/gifts).



> For dine, for feeding the plot bunny.  
> Thanks to mohmlet and Rhi for brainstorming and partial beta reading.

The park was crowded with people and food trucks of all kinds, representing at least forty distinct ethnic cuisines including the typical Asian-American fusion that permeated the Pacific Northwest. In another life, Parker might have seized the opportunity to play the crowd, relieving more than a few of their wallets, but she was living this one: the one where she promised to be a better person. Some days, that came easier than others. Eliot had taken Parker out to try the food here before and she’d liked the experience well enough to want to get Alec out in the sunshine, even if he claimed to hate it. It was a gorgeous August day in Portland. Summer had finally arrived in the Pacific Northwest, and already it promised to be a scorcher.

Spying one of her favorite food trucks, Parker headed towards it, only to stop short when Alec refused to move. “What?” she asked, startled. Normally he liked arepas, especially the way this South American-themed truck did them.

“Just telling Eliot where we are,” Alec said, typing on his phone one-handed. “He finished prep for the pub and wondered where we went.”

“Is he coming here?” The brewpub wasn’t that far of a walk. “Do you want to wait?”

“Nah, we’ll grab a table when we’ve got our food,” Alec decided. “He’ll want something other than arepas. Probably that sushi bowl place.”

Parker wrinkled her nose slightly. She liked sushi, but she thought putting it in a bowl with other ingredients made it less appetizing. She started to ask why not arepas before she remembered Eliot telling her he’d gotten sick of them in San Lorenzo and settled for, “You kiss him first then.”

Alec grinned. “Oh, is that what we’re doing after this?” he teased her.

Parker shrugged. Their last case, a job involving a legal marijuana shop in Seattle that had been getting pressured by a greedy land developer, had been more than a week ago and all of them needed time to unwind from the stress of it. In hindsight, Parker saw that they’d tried to pull off a con that needed five people to pull off; only experience and skill and a lot of luck had made it work with just the three of them. _Maybe it’s time to bring in new people_ , she mused, _give us_ _that advantage again._ As soon as she thought it, though, the part of her that had learned the hard way not to trust others blared an alarm. She knew if she brought up the subject, Alec and Eliot would want to know why, and she couldn’t quite justify the expansion, even after their most recent case. In the three years since Nate and Sophie had left, they'd become a well-oiled machine.

Concerned by her silence, Alec started to speak before reconsidering. The food line was full of people, and conversations were so easily overheard. “So are you going to get something different today? You always get the same ones.”

“What’s wrong with beef chili?” Parker demanded.

“Nothing,” Alec said, one hand rising to indicate peace. “Just thought you might like something different.” He nodded to the specials board.

Parker studied it, wondering what the hell yucca was and why anyone wanted to eat it. It sounded, well, yucky, and she made herself remember that she was an adult, she could make her own choices, and no one was going to force her to eat it if she said no. “You get it then,” she dared Alec.

Alec’s smile widened. “Nah, I’ve had yucca before. Not my favorite.”

It didn’t take long before it was their turn to order. Parker got her usual trio of beef chili, guacamole, and fresh cheese arepas; Alec opted for a salmon and shrimp combo plate. Two bottled waters and one of the orange Mexican sodas for Alec took care of the rest of lunch.

This particular park had been set up with brightly colored tables and folding chairs, along with an assortment of games – croquet, shuffleboard, table tennis, chess, and a few others Parker didn’t recognize. The food trucks formed a border along three sides of the inner-city park; the last side was bordered by a swatch of grass before ending at the alley that ran behind a three-story brick building. A wrought-iron fence denoted the edge of the park. Parker opted for a table closer to the grassy area, two tables away from the nearest occupied table.

She was halfway through her first arepa when Eliot showed up. As Alec had predicted, he was carrying a sushi bowl. Given the timing, Parker suspected Eliot had made his order online, then picked it up; that particular food truck was faster with online orders than physical ones. Alec stood and kissed Eliot, making the other man scowl at the unexpected physical display of affection. “Just getting a kiss now, before we both have fish breath,” Alec said, making Eliot relax.

Eliot half-chuckled at the practicality of that as he sat down. “We got any plans for later?” he asked after he took his first bite.

“None that can’t be put off,” Parker said. She drank some water before adding, “What did you have in mind?”

Eliot shook his head. “Nothing; just checking.”

Parker eyed him. “Nothing” from Eliot could mean anything from “I’m doing my laundry” to “I’m going to the gym” to “I’m cooking something new and I don’t want to be interrupted” to, well, “nothing.” Even after years of exposure, Parker still had trouble with the way most people said one thing and meant something completely different.

“That ‘nothing’ as in ‘you’re doing something but don’t want to be interrupted’ sort of nothing?” Alec clarified, picking up on Parker’s confusion.

Parker sent him a grateful look.

Eliot scowled. “Like that would stop you from finding me and interrupting anyway?”

Alec pretended to be hurt. “Aw, come on, you know if you asked –”

“And what if I wanted to just be alone?” Eliot countered, his body language projecting a resignation, as if he fully expected to be bothered and was prepared to put up with it, even though it was the last thing he wanted. She’d seen that look enough to know what it meant, and it helped that he’d done the same thing the day before. It usually meant that a day or two from now, Eliot would come up with some reason he had to be elsewhere, someplace that neither she nor Hardison would follow. Once was easily dismissed; twice was enough to spark Parker’s pattern recognition skills.

“Then I won’t bother you,” Alec promised, smiling easily.

 _Too easily_ , Parker thought, and wondered if Alec knew something she didn’t. _Probably, but I bet he thinks this is just for a day or two. Way Eliot’s acting, I don’t think it’s that short._  “For how long?” she wondered aloud, and read a kind of relief in Eliot’s eyes that she’d thought to ask.

Eliot squeezed her hand reassuringly. “A week, maybe two.”

Though they were often in the apartment above the brewpub more than anywhere else, it wasn’t unusual for them to take a break from each other. Parker still had her partially furnished warehouse and Eliot had his condo, though Alec had taken over the apartment above the brewpub. Still, they’d been spending a lot of time together lately and Parker gotten used to having her men around…maybe a little too used to it. She stared at Eliot, confused and suspicious. “Oh. You need a timeout?” she asked.

Eliot nodded and let out a breath. “Sorry, but I’m feeling a little too closed in.”

Alec covered Eliot’s hand. “You headed out after this, then?”

“Yeah,” Eliot said. “Unless you two want me to stick around?”

Parker studied him, noting the tight lines around his eyes and along his mouth; he looked like he'd spent a lot of the night awake, probably going through every worst-case scenario. She bit back the frown the realization produced. Alec had been hoping that distracting Eliot with sex the night before might be enough to keep him from leaving, but Parker had bet it wouldn’t work. They’d been a triad for more than three years now; Eliot needing a break from her and Alec was not a new thing. Alec kept hoping that in time Eliot would stop needing the space but Parker didn't think it was going to work that way. Eliot didn’t become the man he was without his quirks. That said, Parker hated being right about this.

“Not if you staying is going to be worse than you leaving,” Parker said, and added, “But I don’t like it when you go.”

Eliot leaned in and kissed her. “I know. I just…need this.”

Parker let out a breath and nodded. “Then go now and stop pretending like you’re hungry.”

Eliot half-smiled. He put the lid back on his sushi bowl and rose.

“Hey, don’t I get a say in this goodbye?” Alec demanded.

Eliot quirked an eyebrow and waited.

Alec leaned over and kissed him. “Go. Don’t be an idiot. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Eliot nodded tightly and walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. Y'all are awesome people - thanks for all the kudos and feedback so far! I'm writing as fast as I can. :-)
> 
> ETA 9/23: Chapter has been edited and revised.

By 8 pm that evening, Eliot was in a suburb of Chicago, pulling up to the curb of his brother’s house. He ignored the driveway leading to the back of the house, not wanting to block access to the road. Eliot got out of the rented SUV and rang the doorbell.

A lanky teenager with a shock of purple hair opened the door. “Uncle Eliot, you came!” the boy cried in delight, and hugged him, hard.

Eliot grinned. “Hey, Zack,” he greeted, hugging the boy back and touching the shock of purple hair in a teasing way. Zack twisted his head away from that while still holding onto Eliot as if he might disappear. “You got taller, Z-man.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “Duh. That’s what happens when you don’t see me for six months. I grow.”

For a moment, Eliot remembered a four-year-old boy too terrified to speak back to the family that had adopted him. Born in rural China, he’d been born with a cleft palate, and it had taken multiple surgeries to correct the defect. Love and therapy had done wonders to bring out Zack’s personality, but from what Eliot had heard over the years, Zack’s issues were not limited to that physical issue.

“Purple? That on purpose or accident?”

Zack shrugged. “Accident. Was supposed to be blue. But it’s cooler this way.” He hugged Eliot one more time before stepping back.

“Where’s your dad?”

Zack’s smile dimmed. “Out back, banging on the stupid Mustang like it’s going to get fixed before I get any older. You know he’s been promising to fix it for my sixteenth birthday, and that’s two months away.”

“I’m here; I can help.”

Zack looked dubious. “Maybe. He’s in a mood. Grandmother came and asked for money and didn’t really want to hear we have none. Come on in. You know where the guest room is; you might as well at least drop your bag off.”

Eliot stepped in, glancing around as he went through the living room and kitchen, turning left towards the guest room instead of right towards the master bedroom. The hardwood floors everywhere looked a little dusty; the kitchen’s usually immaculate counters were covered in what looked to be either an abandoned meal preparation or cleanup.

Eliot took in those and the accumulating clutter on the coffee table and silently swore. Geoffrey never left a mess unless he was upset about something.

Geoffrey was all of ten months younger than Eliot. When Eliot had shipped off to basic, Geoffrey had driven him to his enlistment point… and kept on driving out of Kentucky until he got to Chicago. Neither man had looked back. Geoffrey had even changed his name, dropping “Eric” as his first name, changing “Spencer” to “Larson,” and using his beloved middle name as his first, wanting no reminders of someone who didn’t deserve to be called a father. Eliot had been grateful when he found out about the name change; it made it easier for him to hide that he had a brother.

Over the years, Geoffrey had spent a lot of time resigning himself to wondering where the hell in the world his brother was. Eliot knew how much Geoffrey hated that, and he’d done what he could to mitigate it by sending money, random gifts, and showing up when he could safely do so to provide whatever menial labor he could. He’d babysat his nephew when Geoffrey’s wife, Marie, had been hospitalized a few years ago, watched the house a couple times when the family had taken a vacation, and done his best to be sure that whatever he did wouldn’t be traced back to hurt his brother, nephew, or sister-in-law. More often than not, Eliot had thrown money at the problem, hiring nannies, nurses, housekeepers, and other professionals in order to avoid going to see his family. Anything that might keep them safe from the life he led. Still, Eliot had made the effort to show up when it mattered. Marie had died six months previously; Eliot had been at the funeral.

Geoffrey’s voicemail, left on Monday, had been simple. _I need you to watch Zack; I’m having heart surgery Wednesday_ _. Doc says it’s a routine surgery and I should be fine. I’ve been procrastinating on getting it done, trying to schedule it for when Zack’s out of school and work isn’t so crazy. If I don’t hear from you in 24 hours, I’ll assume you’re somewhere you can’t reach me and I'll work something out._

After dropping his bag off in the guest bedroom, Eliot headed out to the garage, where he found his brother sitting on a stool, staring at a rust-spotted electric blue Mustang that sat up on blocks. The hood of the car was open, revealing a partially assembled engine.

Side by side, it was clear Eliot and Geoffrey were brothers: they had the same dark brown hair, much the same height, and a similar tendency to stay in shape. Geoffrey was broader in frame, and weighed more; in loose clothes, his natural bulk was often mistaken for someone who was overweight and unfit. He’d also inherited their mother’s more rounded facial features, green eyes, and soft-spoken ways.

At the sound of the door to the garage opening, Geoffrey looked up. Eliot read surprise and relief in his brother’s face.

“You called, damn it,” Eliot said pointedly, moving forward.

Geoffrey sighed heavily. “I didn’t expect you’d show up. Usually you call me back and we discuss the many reasons you can’t be here.”

“I’m here now. Gotta say, looks like you having surgery is the least of your problems.”

Geoffrey smiled humorlessly. “Barbara, my mother-in-law, wants me to stop Zack’s therapy. She says if I’m too broke to give her money, then surely Zack can do without it.”

“What’s the therapy for?” Eliot frowned, not liking the direction of this conversation.

“Zack’s hormones are causing him to have massive mood swings. Marie was worried if we didn’t get him into therapy, he’d be another loner kid statistic. You know he’s had issues for years with his emotional control.”

“Is it helping?” Eliot asked.

“Well, I’d rather he didn’t dye his hair, but if that’s the biggest out-there-thing he’s doing, I’ll take it and be happy.” Geoffrey paused. “I don’t know how to do this without Marie. She kept him and me on an even keel and if it weren’t for therapy for him and me, I’d be sitting here wanting to hit shit that don’t need hitting. As it is, I was out here banging on that engine until I heard a car pull up.”

“What does your mother-in-law need money for?”

Geoffrey sighed. “Nothing she needs, Eliot. She just _wants_. She drove Marie and me crazy. She wanted Marie to participate in cancer charity marathons even when Marie had zero energy, wanted Zack to be the kind of star student who makes the national news for something amazing, wanted me to get a James Beard award even though I told her they don’t award that to the guy who does the accounting for a restaurant group. And that's just what she was putting on us. She wanted a house with a fancy-ass address for herself, and a husband rich enough to give her everything.

“Her husband caught her cheating on him with the housekeeper’s son two months ago and told her she was only getting what she’d agreed to in the pre-nup – nothing more, nothing less.”

“And the pre-nup?”

“Supposedly gives her enough to live on as long as she stays unmarried, but she’ll have to move out of the house and into an apartment by herself, which means she can’t have anything but what she had before she got married.”

“So she’s leaning on you now.” Eliot crossed his arms, not liking what he was hearing. He’d met Barbara briefly at the funeral, but had been more concerned with shoring up his brother, and by extension, his nephew. Both Geoffrey and Zack had taken the loss of Marie hard.

“She says since I have a spare bedroom, she can live with me. She was here, demanding I let her move in. I kicked her out about half an hour before you showed up.” Geoffrey ran a hand through his hair and looked frustrated. “I don’t know why she’s so insistent. It’s not like I’ve ever made a secret that whatever I’ve earned has gone to support Marie and Zack.”

“You didn’t offer the guest bedroom?” Eliot asked.

“Hell no, I didn’t offer her that or the couch!” Geoffrey exploded. “Fuck, Eliot, I knew she was going to push on _something_ but I thought I knew what I was getting into with her. Usually it’s just ‘oh, I wish you would do this thing, wouldn’t it be nice to be recognized for something you do anyway?’ I honestly thought asking for a favor would be okay. Figured it might be good to give in to her ‘I wish we could spend more time together’ and then she’d be off my back for a while about everything else she wants me to do.”

Eliot looked at him skeptically.

Sheepishly, Geoffrey said, “Look, you usually call me back within four hours to tell me you aren’t coming. I needed someone since my best friend caught the flu and Barbara was willing to do it. I didn’t know it would come with strings like her wanting to be here permanently!”

 “You want me to go looking, figure out why she wants to be here so bad?” Eliot asked.

Geoffrey shook his head. “Not why I asked you to come.” He studied his older brother a moment. “Though knowing you, you probably have ways of finding out.” He sighed deeply and rose off the stool. “It’ll keep anyway. Come on, you’re probably hungry, and I left the kitchen a mess.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Rhi for the beta reading!

Eliot followed his brother back into the house. As it turned out, Geoffrey had just started cleaning up dinner when his mother-in-law had interrupted, so the mess was less of a warning sign than Eliot had initially thought. Eliot mourned the loss of what looked and smelled like a well-executed katsu chicken curry as he held open the trash can lid as Geoffrey carefully dumped the heavy pot into the trash can.

Geoffrey caught his facial expression. “My plan was if you showed up, you’d have the leftovers from dinner, but I’m not going to feed you chicken that’s been sitting out for two hours,” Geoffrey told him.

“With those spices, probably wouldn’t kill me,” Eliot reminded him.

“No, but you and I both know food safety, and – no. You might have a cast-iron stomach from the places you’ve been but I need you well.” He flashed a quick grin as he took the empty pot and started washing it. After the rest of the dishes were clean, the counters wiped down, and the plastic storage canisters containing jasmine rice and panko flour put away, Geoffrey opened the fridge to take quick inventory of what he had. After a few minutes of indecision, he pulled out cream cheese, smoked salmon, and a package of mini-flatbread, and handed it over to Eliot. “Zack loves this stuff.”

“This works,” Eliot assured his brother as he took a seat at the breakfast bar and started assembling his snack. “What time is your surgery tomorrow, and what, exactly, are you having done?”

“Ten o’clock, and it’s to repair a valve in my heart,” Geoffrey said. “If you didn’t show up today, I was going to ask Barbara to watch Zack. That’s why she was here.”

“Did you ever give her a key to the house?” Eliot asked as his brother poured him a glass of water.

“No,” Geoffrey said. “Marie warned me to never leave my keys out where her mother could get them, said she'd had a couple ‘incidents’ in college. I didn’t want to believe Barbara could get that bad, but Marie made me promise.” He shrugged his shoulders restlessly and leaned against the kitchen counter. “The way Barbara acted tonight – I’ve never seen her like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like she thought she should’ve gotten more from Marie’s will than she did, which was a couple of pieces of jewelry Barbara gave her when Marie was little. Plus, Barbara thought I’d be ecstatic she would be here full-time. She was barely here when Marie was sick, especially at the end when we had to move her to hospice. I don’t know what I was thinking when I asked her except that I was desperate and didn’t think you’d come.”

Eliot nodded in understanding. He’d been there for the reading of the will; he’d heard how Marie’s estate amounted to her jewelry, the payout from her life insurance policies, and her share of the house and shared bank accounts. “What was she asking about that she thought she deserved more of?”

“Some of the money you’ve given me over the years for stuff, I stuck in a bank account for emergencies,” Geoffrey told him, “since I didn’t know when I’d next be able to get a hold of you, and I haven’t always agreed with you on what it should be spent on. Bank finally talked me into turning it into a family trust. Only people who can access it are me, Marie, Zack if he’s with a parent or guardian or over 18, and you. Marie only told her about the trust because somehow Barbara found out that our medical insurance wouldn’t cover for cancer care and yet we had Marie in hospice until the end and didn’t lose the house or stop Zack’s therapy.” Grief passed a shadow over Geoffrey’s face at the memory of his wife. “I couldn’t have taken care of Marie. Not the way the nurses did, twenty-four-seven.”

Eliot nodded. “You had to work and take care of Zack. You’re not less of a man for choosing that route and you know damn well Marie wanted y’all taken care of, too. Told you that before.”

Geoffrey breathed out a breath and closed his eyes briefly. “I know. I’m just…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe it’s been six months and already Barbara’s acting like I owe her something.”

“Damn it.” Eliot exhaled and nodded. “I’ll get the locks changed.”

Startled, Geoffrey froze. Then his eyes narrowed as he contemplated what he knew of his mother-in-law and what his brother said. He studied Eliot a moment before asking, “You sure? If there’s a twenty-four-hour one around, that’s not going to be cheap.”

“You want to risk her moving in? If I were Barbara, I’d have stolen Zack’s keys and made a copy. Or told him that you ‘forgot’ to give her a key.”

“Damn it, she would. Fuck.” Geoffrey grimaced at the thought and considered the situation.

Eliot waited patiently as he ate more of the salmon and cream cheese flatbread. His little brother could be stubborn, but usually yielded to Eliot’s greater knowledge on matters of personal safety and security. Eliot had time to make a second flatbread while he waited for Geoffrey to decide.

“Fine. If you can find someone to come in tonight and get it done, then whatever it costs, I’ll figure out to juggle it.”

Offended, Eliot glared at his brother. “My paranoia, my problem to fix.” He pulled out his phone and thanked Hardison’s contingency planning again; the apps on there made it crazy fast to find a locksmith who'd show up before midnight.

“Thanks,” Geoffrey said once the arrangements were made. He stared at his brother as if trying to figure out where to start asking questions, then finally asked, “You act like you think Barbara wants something else. What makes you think that?”

“People like that never stop at just one thing,” Eliot replied. “Especially if they’ve been able to get what they want by just steamrolling over other people.” He paused to take a bite of his flatbread before adding, “They get away with it because most people won’t call them out on their behavior.”

“You saying I’m too nice?”

“You believe people are basically good and follow the rules.” Eliot looked at his brother, a look full of shared remembrance of their dysfunctional upbringing. Among other things, their father had expected them to be ‘real men’ who played football and never cried; thought they should want to run the hole-in-wall hardware store, as if that was the height of success.

Like Eliot, Geoffrey had wanted nothing to do with that scenario. Both of them had paid for their resistance in bruises, broken bones, and memories of angry, cruel words. Not for the first time, Eliot marveled that his little brother had managed to survive their childhood with a tender, compassionate heart full of optimism. “Leaves you open to people who take advantage of that.”

Geoffrey made a moue of distaste. “I don’t want to be hard and cold like you got, bro. The last few years, you've been relaxing some. It’s like you found something that makes you happy. That still true? Because you’re looking really tired. Where’d you come in from this time?”

Eliot used to keep his location vague, until he realized his enemies would hurt his family regardless of what they knew. “Portland, Oregon, and my partners kept me up late.”

 “And is one of them someone pretty, smart, and talented?” Geoffrey teased. “You always had to have the whole package.”

“Both of them are, actually,” Eliot said, smiling briefly. “We run a brewpub together.”

Geoffrey looked surprised at that. “Still? Are you settling down finally? Not going around and getting paid to use what you learned from the Army for other people who don’t give a damn about how they use you?”

Eliot shifted restlessly. He’d never lied to his brother about what he’d done to survive, though he’d been reticent about specifics. Eliot had explained enough for Geoffrey to know how to wake him when he’d stayed over and had nightmares and that was bad enough.

But… ‘ _Still?’_ Eliot ran the numbers and realized it had been six years since he’d agreed to run the pub with Hardison, and nearly a decade since his life had been upended by what was supposed to have been a simple job. That alone both gave him pause and made him crave some solitude to sort out plans and contingencies. “Guess so.”

“These partners of yours…you ever going to tell me their names?”

Eliot’s smile widened. His brother was a romantic who’d dreamed of getting married, and who was firmly convinced that what Eliot needed was someone to love him. Problem was, Eliot hadn’t gotten around to mentioning things like ‘bisexual’ yet. He was certain his brother would be all right with it, but it would still be a shock and that was a damn bad idea with a man who needed heart surgery the next day.

For that matter, Eliot had no desire to go down that particular path tonight, not when he was feeling like he needed time to process how he felt about Parker and Hardison. That last job had nearly killed them; they’d miscalculated, managed to skim through in time to make adjustments, and gotten lucky. The protector in Eliot wanted to wrap his lovers up and take them somewhere safe, something he knew neither of them would accept. Another part of him wanted to make declarations he couldn’t take back. “Maybe someday.”

Accepting that he wasn’t going to get that answer, Geoffrey tried another tactic. “You look tired. You happy?”

Eliot finished eating the snack he’d made; it would be enough to tide him over until the morning. “Been a crazy week, but yes.” Deliberately, he changed the subject off himself and back onto the immediate priorities. “What do you need me to do tomorrow besides drive you to the hospital and back?”

“Keep Zack from freaking out. Last time we were at the hospital, Marie died, I passed out, and he didn’t handle it well.”

“Got it.” Eliot’s eyes narrowed as he realized how long it had been. “You didn’t bother to mention you’d passed out when I was in town for the funeral.”

Geoffrey looked chagrined. “I didn’t want you to go off on a tangent about how I needed to take care of it right then. The doc said I could delay the surgery a few months, give myself time to get through the grief and make sure what was going on with my heart wasn’t sympathetic pains or shit like that, but when I saw him two weeks ago, he insisted I couldn’t put it off any longer.”

Eliot pursed his lips, hating what he was hearing. “And you couldn’t tell me before now?”

“I needed time to accept it,” Geoffrey replied. “Look, you know I pride myself on being fit, especially since we figured out that eating the right foods helped Marie live a bit longer and not get so sick from chemo.”

Eliot nodded in understanding.

“So getting told that my heart’s got a fucked up valve and the only reason I can delay getting it fixed is because I’m otherwise healthy was a shock,” Geoffrey continued on, his hands underscoring his words. “And then I had to deal with Zack and his reaction to Marie being gone and me passing out and having to tell him I needed surgery. I didn’t think I could handle your reaction on top of that. I already feel guilty for making him worry. Tomorrow’s the earliest the surgeon could get me in, and I know you would’ve come rushing out here if I’d told you sooner.”

Eliot drew in a breath, aware his first reaction to the news was a need to hit something, to fix it so his brother was not in any danger whatsoever, by any means necessary. If he’d heard this two weeks ago, he knew he would have dropped everything to be here. Breathing carefully, he reminded himself he was here now and in a position to do something about the situation.

“You told Zack what’s going on tomorrow?”

“We made a special session with his therapist this past Friday so we could have a neutral third party to help me tell him that I was having surgery.”

Eliot looked at Geoffrey and read a familiar kind of resignation, the kind his brother only showed when Zack had a meltdown or a blowup. “He got angry?”

“One of his epic ones. Raged at me, raged at the therapist, accused me of trying to abandon him, tried to make me feel even worse than I already do. He’s terrified I’m going to die tomorrow.” Geoffrey put a hand over his mouth, sagged his shoulders, and closed his eyes briefly, clearly trying to find an inner strength. “Even knowing why he’s saying that shit doesn’t make it any easier, and I know I can’t blame it all on him having a chemical imbalance in his brain. I don’t know how to make him believe I’m going to be okay, so I’m really glad you’re here.” He straightened his posture and met Eliot’s gaze. “Not that I think you can make him believe any better than I or the therapist can, but you don’t pretend it’s all going to be okay and he likes that about you.”

Eliot looked at his brother wryly. “I’ll do what I can. You eating breakfast?”

“Zack should; he has medications he needs to take. Me, I can’t have anything until after the surgery. I made a breakfast casserole yesterday and stocked up the fridge over the weekend with stuff to heat up; figured we’d be in no shape to cook. Zack can cook, by the way, but he doesn’t have the passion for it like you and I do. I figure it’s enough that he knows the basics, can make a few recipes, and won’t starve.”

Eliot nodded in understanding, seeing his brother’s resignation that Zack didn’t share their love of cooking. “You disappointed he won’t do more with it?”

“Not interested in legacies like our father was,” Geoffrey replied evenly. “More like…there’s a list of things I thought I could share with my son, and the older he gets, the more I realize he’s done most of those things and gone, ‘Eh.’” Geoffrey smiled sheepishly and spread his hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

Eliot smothered a chuckle. “Surprised he’s not out here, wanting attention from me.”

“He knows he’ll have your attention tomorrow,” Geoffrey pointed out, “and I told him that if you did show up, you might not be up to having him in your face. You tend to get growly when you’re tired.”

Eliot acknowledged that with a rueful nod. “You mentioned you have to have a valve in your heart fixed. What kind of surgery are you having?”

“Mitral valve repair surgery,” Geoffrey said. “I, uh, passed out when Marie was pronounced dead and they found I had a heart murmur.”

Eliot looked at his brother in surprise. “That doesn’t sound like a simple thing.”

“Supposed to be three days and then home, but I suspect that the ‘at home recovery’ part means I can’t do shit for a couple days. I also gave you my medical power of attorney – hope you don’t mind.”

Eliot shook his head. “Figured you would if something came up. Anything else I should know?”

Geoffrey picked up his phone. “Probably. Let me text you what the hospital sent me.” After sending the text, he looked at the time and swore. “I need to get to sleep, else I’m not going to be awake in time. Would you mind cleaning up and locking up after the locksmith shows up? And if Zack’s still up, will you make sure he gets to sleep? He’s worse than you when he doesn’t get sleep.”

“Not a problem.” Eliot rose and hugged his brother.

Geoffrey smiled and returned the hug. “Thanks.”

Alone in the living room, Eliot took the time to review what his brother had sent him and look up the credentials of the hospital and the surgeon who was scheduled to operate on Geoffrey. Both had good ratings. The locksmith showed up about fifteen minutes after he’d shut down his browser. Eliot verified his credentials with the company he’d called, surprising the man.

“You know how many people just trust I’m who I say am?” the older gentleman asked, revealing he had a thick Croatian accent. Not waiting for a reply, the man answered his own question. “Too many, and they’re the ones calling me this time of night worried about their exes coming in with keys. Do you want just the front door or the back rekeyed?”

“Both of them please,” Eliot said, and followed him through the house. The locksmith didn’t seem to mind, chattering away gregariously as he worked, never really pausing to let Eliot speak more than a yes or no. Amused by this, Eliot kept his grin tucked away as he made sure the locksmith kept to his task. He was relieved to see that the man didn’t appear to be casing the joint as he worked and that his chatter was more of a learned patter, as if he was used to dealing with customers who were too nervous or scared to engage in conversation.

Once the locksmith had finished rekeying the doors, Eliot paid the man with a credit card tied to an identity he often used when traveling away from Portland. Then he did a final perimeter check, locking up the garage, which held his brother’s ancient Toyota sedan in addition to the project Mustang, and made sure the security lights were on. Like most of the homes on the street, the house didn’t have a security system. Eliot had tried to get his brother to get one installed, but Geoffrey had looked at the expense and balked, even if Eliot had been willing to pay for it.

Eliot didn’t think Barbara would do anything to the house while they were at the hospital, but he wasn’t willing to gamble his brother’s house on it. He’d come prepared, and set up the compact wireless security system he’d packed. The feed would route to his phone and text him if something happened.

That task done, Eliot headed to the guest bedroom, which was separated from Zack’s bedroom by a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. As he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Eliot saw the telltale light underneath the door and knew his nephew was probably still up. Knocking lightly, Eliot heard Zack scramble to pretend he was sleeping.

Not fooled by that, Eliot cracked open the door so he could be heard. “Get some sleep, Zack. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.”

Zack grumbled, “Can’t a guy at least get to see you before then?”

Hearing a note of fear in the younger man’s voice, Eliot asked, “Okay if I come in?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zack said dismissively.

Eliot stepped inside, noting that Zack had turned on the lamp on the nightstand beside his bed. The twin-sized bed was positioned directly across from the bathroom. Eliot knew that Zack had wanted a bigger bed, but the money for it had gone to his mom’s cancer treatments. Habit had Eliot taking in the layout of the room, calculating optimum distances for escape routes. A desk with a chair faced the window; between it and the bed stood the lone nightstand. Storage shelves lined the wall opposite the bed and held a mishmash of shoes, clothes, and toys. Zack laid on the bed atop the covers, holding a battered bolster pillow as he mouthed at one of his knuckles and looked hopefully at his uncle.

“Dad’s going to be okay?”

“You know I don’t make you promises I can’t keep. It’s not without risk,” he told Zack honestly, snagging a seat in the chair, “but your dad’s in good shape otherwise.”

The fifteen-year-old bit his lip. “Grandmother said if I’d just behaved, Dad wouldn’t have passed out.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Eliot said. “And your grandmother was wrong to tell you that. His heart has a defect that needs fixing. If he hadn’t passed out then, he might’ve passed out later. This way, it happened in the best place possible.”

Zack eyed Eliot as he leaned forward challengingly, thrusting the pillow out at an angle, and rose to his knees in the bed. “You gonna take care of me if something happens to Dad?”

Eliot could tell the boy was one word away from exploding. Zack had gotten in trouble in the past for public displays of aggression; Eliot had no desire to see that sort of thing play out in the waiting room of the hospital come morning. So the hitter chose his words deliberately.  “Would you prefer if I didn’t?” Eliot countered, and braced for impact.

Zack burst into tears, tossed his pillow aside, and leapt at Eliot, hands fisted and raised, and screamed, “Don’t leave me alone!”

Rising out of the rolling chair before it could slide out from under him, Eliot caught Zack, grabbing his hands before they could connect. “Zack, I’m not going to leave you alone, but I’m also not going to let you hit me.” Eliot breathed out, controlling the adrenaline rush and his own instinctive reaction to danger. “You do not hit people because life is not going the way you want it to.”

Zack glared at him furiously and tried to get free, but Eliot knew all the tricks and didn’t let him. “But I don’t want to be alone!”

“Then breathe,” Eliot ordered. “Come on, you know the drill. You know better than this.” Silently, he hoped Geoffrey hadn’t heard Zack screaming; the situation would only escalate if Geoffrey came running. “You have the tools; you’re just stressed out right now.”

Eliot remembered his brother’s terrified voicemail when Zack had been nine years old, asking if Eliot knew how to deal with a kid who’d been diagnosed with uncontrollable anger after striking his then-best-friend and hurting him severely. Eliot had suggested medical professionals, even going so far as to give his brother money to pay for the doctors and continued therapy.

Zack shuddered visibly. “I hate this,” he said, taking measured breaths. “I hate that I want to hit things when I’m upset.”

Eliot ignored the remark and waited until he could see Zack calming before he let go. The minutes ticked by, but eventually Zack collapsed in on himself like a marionette. Eliot released him and stepped a half step back.

Zack immediately took another deep breath and said, “I’m sorry, Uncle Eliot. I just…I’m worried.”

“I know you are. But I’m going to be there and you’re not going to be alone, no matter what happens.”

Zack took another breath. “I know that, but I get wound up and I can’t think and then I do stupid stuff like I just did. I’m sorry,” he said, looking equal parts contrite and embarrassed. He looked at Eliot. “You gonna tell Dad I tried to hit you?”

“No,” Eliot decided. “That’s between you and me.” He studied his nephew carefully. “You going to get to bed? It’s going to be long day tomorrow, between the drive to Chicago and your dad’s surgery.”

Zack nodded. “Dad said we have to be up at 6 to be there in time.” He paused. “Are you cooking?” He picked up the discarded pillow and crawled in bed.

“Maybe. Go to sleep; you’ll find out in the morning.” Assured the younger man would at least lie in bed, if not sleep, Eliot moved to turn out the light and headed back to the other bedroom.

Hearing footsteps, he stepped out into the hallway, using the light from the guest bedroom for illumination. Geoffrey looked at him worriedly. Eliot shook his head and pointedly put a finger over his mouth, silently telling him to stay quiet.

Geoffrey rolled his eyes and used sign language to say, “I heard Zack yelling. What happened?”

“I took care of it,” Eliot signed back. “Go to bed.”

Geoffrey made a face as if to say he didn’t like that answer and would likely be asking for details at some future date, hugged Eliot, and headed back to the master bedroom.

Alone with his thoughts, Eliot let down his guard. He’d thought that by getting away, shifting his priorities to his brother and nephew, he’d be able to compartmentalize the strains he was feeling. He’d forgotten he could always count on his family to add to that pressure.

For a moment, he almost gave into the need to text Alec and Parker, tell them where he was, but he stopped himself. Knowing Alec, the hacker would’ve already tracked him to this little town south of Chicago. Alec respected Eliot enough not to contact him unless it was an emergency; that was the unspoken deal about their time apart. Parker would in turn ask Alec when she got worried about where he was. Eliot suspected, given the number of times in the last nine years he’d come here, that Alec had figured out he had important people – be it family or friends – living in this small town.

Eliot missed them deeply. He knew once he got back, he had to face the fact that he was not the man he was nine years ago or even three years ago – and that he was firmly and irrevocably in love. He’d told Sophie and Nate once that he’d protect Alec and Parker until his dying day. He hadn’t realized then just how much more he would come to mean it. That scared him, in the part of him that looked for weaknesses to exploit, and made him pull back.

He couldn’t think straight when Hardison and Parker were around. They didn’t like to see him brooding, and tended to want to fix it. Even though she was much better at it now than she’d been when they’d first met, Parker still came to Eliot to ask him how to act like a normal person. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her into thinking he was yet another person who didn’t want her for who she was, normal be damned. Hardison was not broken like Parker had been, but Eliot knew that the more the hacker worried, the more likely he was to want reassurances that the people he loved would be precisely where he expected to be. Eliot wasn’t sure he could give either of his lovers what they needed. He was pretty certain his objectivity towards them was compromised. The last six months of being with Parker and Hardison had driven that sense of being compromised home. If something happened to either of them and they died as a result, Eliot knew he would extract revenge. But what if what happened to them was the kind of thing that happened to his sister-in-law, who’d died of ovarian cancer? Eliot couldn’t extract revenge on cancer; it wasn’t anything he could hit, kill, or otherwise personally dispatch, never to be seen again. He needed to talk to someone who wasn’t a part of his team, someone who still believed in love despite losing the woman he loved.

Hearing Geoffrey’s voicemail had made Eliot panic, and driven into his awareness that he’d forgotten to factor in his family in his planning. If something went wrong with the surgery, how the hell could he take care of Zack? Money wasn’t the issue – hadn’t been since the Nigerian job – but Eliot knew he couldn’t just put Zack in with Parker and Hardison and expect everyone to get along.

Eliot growled mentally and forced himself to go through the routine of showering, brushing his teeth, changing into the t-shirt and gym shorts he tended to wear to sleep in, and setting his phone’s alarm. Tomorrow would be soon enough to contemplate contingencies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head canon is that one of Eliot's and Geoffrey's relatives was deaf, so both learned sign language early in life so they could talk to them. :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Rhi for the beta read!  
> Note: previous chapters have been edited. I've been sick this past few weeks so if anything still looks amiss, please let me know and I'll fix it.
> 
> Also: the location of Stone Hollow, Illinois is based on a real town, but it doesn't exist.

Long habit had Eliot waking before dawn. Mindful of the way sound traveled through the small house, he made his way out to the back yard and did some katas and body weight calisthenics, loosening his muscles and burning off energy. He knew that he was in for several hours of sitting, but he’d learned the hard way that skipping his morning workout made it that much harder to ask his body to do the impossible in an emergency.

By the time he finished and made it to the back door, his brother was waiting for him, holding a glass of water. “Overachiever,” Geoffrey teased as he handed over the glass.

Eliot took a sip of water. “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t out here exercising before 6 AM, I’d think you were sick,” Geoffrey agreed, stepping aside to let Eliot into the house. “You can use the master bath; Zack takes forever to get going. I’m going to have to remind him he’s on a deadline.”

Eliot shot his brother a grateful smile.

Nodding acknowledgement, Geoffrey went on, “I stuck the breakfast casserole in the oven to heat. By the time you’re out, it’ll be ready to eat, and your coffee's ready now. We need to get on the road by 8 if we’re going to get there by 10 and have time to find parking. Also, I need to send you a list of the things Zack’s allowed to watch and the parameters his therapist set for anything not on that list.” Geoffrey pulled out his phone and got it ready to send an email.

“Send it to eliots at leverageconsulting dot com,” Eliot told him, and then spelled it as Geoffrey typed in the address.

 “Oh, and one more thing –” Geoffrey stopped Eliot before he could turn away. “Look, I know you hate hospitals, so I really appreciate you sitting in one for however long this will take.”

Eliot scowled, not liking the reminder. “Not like I’d do this for just anyone,” he countered.

“True,” Geoffrey agreed genially. “Lucky me then. You wouldn’t do this for your partners?”

Eliot’s scowl deepened. “I’m not talking about them.” He quickly headed to the guest bedroom to grab a change of clothes and toiletries so he could use the master bathroom.

* * *

It didn’t take the medical staff long to get Geoffrey checked in and off to surgery. Zack had brought his tablet to draw on, since he wasn’t allowed to play videogames. Eliot pulled out a paperback he’d read a few dozen times already, more for the prop and familiarity than anything else. Geoffrey was expected to be in surgery for three to four hours. He would be in the hospital for another three days after that; Eliot planned on taking Zack home after they’d visited Geoffrey.

They were not the only ones in the waiting room. Eliot counted at least six other families and probably closer to nine, given the odd number of people in the room and the way two individuals didn’t act like they were with each other or anyone else. One woman looked terrified and clutched her purse in her lap as if she fully expected someone to take it forcibly from her. Eliot noted that the chair next to her was notably empty despite the fact that it forced one man to stand instead of sitting, and took that situation to mean that the terrified woman was not going to be consoled by anyone.

At Eliot and Zack’s arrival, the remaining group shifted to make room at the end nearest the corner wall of the waiting room, and the terrified woman pointedly moved her chair out from the others. Eliot took the hint and shepherded Zack over to the open two chairs.

Zack chose the seat nearest the corner, allowing Eliot to block him in. Eliot noted his nephew wasn't concentrating, doodling randomly with his left hand, but his right shook. Eliot reached over and grasped Zack’s hand. Zack went still and looked at Eliot. “Too much?”

Eliot shook his head. “You’re not alone, Z-man. Talk it out if you need to.”

“Not in front of everybody,” Zack hissed. “People are already staring at my hair.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Eliot saw the woman sitting across from them shift in her chair upon hearing Zack’s words. He caught her gaze and held it.

“Got a problem?” he asked her pointedly.

“Thought he was a girl,” she said stiffly. “Only girls dye their hair.”

“And if he was,” Eliot asked in the same deceptively even tone, “would you still stare?”

The woman finally flushed and stammered, “Sorry.”

Zack looked at her and started to say something, but Eliot squeezed his hand warningly. Glancing at Eliot, he bit his lip and settled back down.

Another hour passed; a few of the families in the waiting room left or were called away. Three new people joined the group. Eliot’s security system pinged with a notification. Using the excuse of a bathroom break, Eliot excused himself to view the feed. The video showed Barbara attempting to use her ill-gotten key to get into the house. When the key didn’t work in the front door, she tried the back, then stomped back around the front, muttering angrily. Tires squealed as she drove away. Satisfied that she wasn’t the type to use a set of lock picks, Eliot took an actual bathroom break before returning to his seat.

Half an hour later, Zack started shifting and squirming as if the chair he sat in was suddenly not suiting him.

“Problem?” Eliot asked him mildly.

“Hungry,” Zack admitted.

“Sit tight for a minute then.” Eliot found out where the cafeteria was and took them both there, hoping that by the time they got back, they’d have better news than ‘Geoffrey is still in surgery.’

The cafeteria food was actually both good and had more healthy options than Eliot had really expected even from a hospital. Unfortunately, the route back to the waiting room meant that they passed by the nurses’ station on the way. As the elevator doors opened to the surgery floor, Zack and Eliot heard a woman’s voice loudly arguing with a nurse. Zack grimaced. “Grandmother’s here. Can I go back to the cafeteria? I don’t want to talk to her.”

“You got your phone on you?”

Zack nodded. “Dad won’t let me go anywhere without it, even if it’s just a stupid old one that only does calls and texts.”

“Then go. Don’t wander off or cause trouble.” Eliot got off the elevator and stepped forward.

Barbara stood arguing with a nurse, who was insisting she could not release patient information to non-authorized personnel. Barbara was dressed for somewhere other than a hospital in a blue leopard print tunic with slits in the sleeves, a pair of slim-fitting pants, and high heels. Her salon-bright blondish-brown hair was nearly the same shade as her tan. Though she’d applied her makeup skillfully, the wrinkles in her hands and neck revealed her true age of sixty-three. She spied Eliot and rushed him.

“You! There you are! You can help me!” she cried, her arms raised high in preparation of a hug.

Eliot stopped her approach with a look that dared her to come closer. Barbara froze like a deer in headlights. He closed the distance, mindful to stay out of arm’s reach, and said in a quiet voice, “Barbara. You’re causing a scene.”

Barbara harrumphed, starting to build up steam again. “They won’t tell me what Geoffrey’s condition is. I’m his mother-in-law.”

“Technically, that relationship ended when Marie died,” Eliot pointed out ruthlessly. “And you’re not the one with Geoffrey’s medical power of attorney.”

“Can’t you at least get them to tell me? I love Geoffrey like he was my own son, and Geoffrey was so worried you wouldn’t show up, he asked me to –”

“Leave his house, and leave him alone,” Eliot finished. “You’re not getting anything from him or Zack.”

Stung, Barbara quickly changed tactics. “You don’t understand what it’s been like for me,” she began.

“I don’t have to. You want money, and no, you’re not getting it from me either.” Eliot stood firm, certain that Barbara was no more than a money-grubbing, wanna-be socialite. Women like her usually set their targets on softer people. “And if you continue causing a fuss, I’ll get the police involved.”

“You wouldn’t dare. God only knows where you’ve gotten your money from,” she sneered.

“Funny, a minute ago, you wouldn’t have cared as long as it spent,” Eliot remarked.

That hit home. Unable to come up with a suitable retort, Barbara retreated, gathering her dignity with a toss of her head. “You’ll regret this.”

Eliot shook his head. “No, I won’t. Because you’ll lose if you try to use the law to your advantage. Trust me on that one.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“No one you want to piss off,” Eliot stated calmly.

Barbara stared at him and tossed her head regally. “Is that so? What are you going to do to me? You’re no cop, and even if you were one, you’re out of your jurisdiction.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eliot replied evenly. “I don’t have to do anything. You come sniffing around, acting like you care about Geoffrey, when all you want is his money. Did you promise your boy toy he’d get rich?”

At that accusation, Barbara drew back, and Eliot knew he’d scored.

“You – you –” She tried to slap him, but even an amateur would have read that move coming.  Eliot simply stepped out of range, causing her to stumble. She grabbed for her dignity and glared at him. “You have no right.”

“For what?” Eliot countered. “Allowing you to trip over yourself? That you did all on your own. Go home, Barbara, and leave my brother and my nephew alone.”

Barbara stared at him.

Eliot stared back, crossing his arms and looking at her with utter contempt.

She opened her mouth to say something before visibly deciding retreat was in order.

Eliot waited until she was out of sight before turning to the nurse’s station. He heard a scuffling noise and looked over to see Zack had been watching. “Don’t be getting any ideas,” he growled at his nephew.

“You’re the coolest uncle ever,” Zack said, awed. “Can I hug you?”

“Make it quick,” Eliot growled.

Zack hugged him and then let him go in the fastest hug Eliot had ever received from his nephew.

Turning to the nurse, Eliot pasted on a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Eliot, Geoffrey Larson’s brother. I was wondering if he was out of surgery?”

Unlike Barbara, the nurse recognized Eliot from the check-in process. She smiled at him and said, “Let me check.”

* * *

Alec pulled away from his laptop and turned his focus to his girlfriend, who sat on the couch just behind him. “I know where Eliot is. It’s a little town called Stone Hollow, Illinois, south of Chicago. And when I say little, I mean little. Like map dot little. Like I’m from Chicago and I didn’t know this town existed little. Only reason I know this place is because he went there six months ago, and it’s the same place he’s been going to off and on since he started using this credit card. Which, by the way, I set up for him, but do I get any thanks for that? No.”

Parker looked at him impatiently.

Alec sighed, gesturing with his hands to say ‘fine, I’ll get on with it.’ “You know me, I can’t stand a mystery. So I dug a little, figured out who Geoffrey Larson is.” He waited, hoping she would for once, praise him at his sleuthing, then reminded himself Parker knew how good of a hacker he was.

“So who is he?” Parker asked when the silence got to be a little long.

“It’s Eliot’s little brother, and it looks like –” Hardison turned back to his computer to verify “–Mr. Larson’s scheduled for heart surgery tomorrow.”

“Ah.” Parker frowned. “Why couldn’t he just tell us that?”

“He’d have to admit he has a brother who isn’t dead, just living under another name,” Alec pointed out. “You know how private he is. I mean, if we hadn’t had that case in Kentucky, I’d have never known he knew how to ride a horse or that he left that woman to go into the Army.”

Parker pouted as she drew her legs up to her chest. “Not like he doesn’t know almost everything about us.”

“Not the point,” Alec reminded her. “We both have secrets we haven’t told him or each other.”

Parker considered it. “But I don’t hold it against you or him. I forgave you for lying to me about why we moved to Portland. Shouldn’t it be as simple as that?”

“I don’t think Eliot’s thinking like that. He wants to protect them from us and vice versa.”

Parker leaned her arms on her knees. “Because we’re thieves,” she said flatly.

“Maybe. Maybe something else,” Alec countered, waving a hand. “Won’t know until we ask him, and until then, we’ll leave him to his illusions. He’s not hurt, he doesn’t need help, and he’s somewhere we can get to if we need to, although man, short notice tickets to Chicago are not cheap.” Aware Parker would obsess over this and that would lead him to obsess with her, Alec decided a diversion was in order. “You mentioned you wanted to look at what REI had for climbing rope?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering when this will be updated with a new chapter, please note that I am working on getting the next chapters beta read before I post. If you want to talk to me about this fic, please check me out on Dreamwidth (raine) or Tumblr (raine_wynd). :-) Thanks for all of the kudos and comments so far!


	5. Chapter 5

“Have I mentioned that I hate being sick?” Geoffrey asked as Eliot helped him into the house three days later. He’d come through the minimally invasive surgery with no complications and was considered to be a good candidate for a complete recovery.

Eliot eased his brother onto the queen-size bed in the master bedroom. “One or a hundred times,” he replied casually. Zack hovered in the doorway, looking equal parts relieved and terrified as he clutched a water bottle and the bag of prescription painkillers and antibiotics. “Zack, set the bag and bottle down on the nightstand and give me and your dad some privacy. Shut the door when you go.”

Nodding, Zack did as he was requested.

Relieved of the need to save face in front of his son, Geoffrey sagged into the pillows and winced at the pain. “I’m not going to be any good the rest of the evening.”

“Then don’t be. Here, let me help you so you can take the good drugs and sleep.”

Geoffrey closed his eyes briefly. “Thanks, bro.”

Eliot was grateful his brother had thought ahead and gotten changed into a sleepshirt and pants at the hospital, saving him the effort of getting undressed when he was home. It still meant, however, that Eliot had to remove his socks and his shoes, then move them out of the path to the bathroom. The size of the master bedroom meant that Geoffrey could use the wall beside the bed as an anchor point if he needed it to make the two strides to the ensuite bathroom. After assisting his brother with a glass of water so he could take the pain and antibiotics he’d been prescribed, Eliot tucked his brother in, making sure the covers were loose enough not to constrict, and then waited until Geoffrey was asleep before making his way out to where Zack waited in the living room.

“Dad going to be okay?” Zack asked, worrying his thumbnail in his teeth.

“Yeah, as long as he doesn’t try to be a superhero,” Eliot told him. “I’m going to heat something up for dinner. Do you want the beef casserole or the couscous thing we skipped last night?”

Eliot opened the fridge and found two neatly labeled containers, the last of a week’s worth of meals in similar large glass-bottomed, plastic-lidded containers. He pulled out both containers and wordlessly asked Zack to choose.

“The couscous thing,” Zack decided.

“Do you have medication you have to take with dinner?”

Zack shook his head. “Just at breakfast. Can you make breadsticks? I liked the ones you made the last time you were here.”

Eliot looked at his watch as he stuck the beef casserole container back in the fridge. It was now almost seven pm; unless the fridge contained a secret stash of packaged breadstick dough he didn’t know about and couldn’t readily see, bread was not going to happen until really, really late. “Only if you want to wait a really long time for dinner. Tomorrow I promised to take you shopping for school supplies and clothes, remember?”

Zack made a face. “I hate shopping, and I want to see if Dad’s better before we leave him alone.”

“Just means we’re making a list and only getting the things on it. You need stuff for school.”

“Can’t I wait until Dad’s healed?” Zack asked again.

“Sure, and risk not being able to get everything because everyone’s waited until the week before school,” Eliot agreed as he positioned the casserole in the microwave and started to heat it. “We can wait a day, but weren’t you the one who told me you like shopping at the Saveway here in town over the ValuMart half an hour away?”

“Yeah,” Zack agreed, brightening slightly. “The cashiers always remember us and they have everything the ValuMart has, just not as much. Dad says the ValuMart’s not always cheaper when you factor in the gas to drive there. Plus, the whole place just feels like it’s coated in unhappiness, like nobody really wants to be there.”

Eliot hid a smile. He wasn’t about to tell his nephew that he’d helped close a ValuMart store. “Does the Saveway have everything you need for school?”

“Yeah,” Zack said. “They always get the lists from school and make sure they have everything so nobody has to drive over to the ValuMart. Sometimes they even have stuff the ValuMart doesn’t – like last year, they had the paper boxes we needed for the science project. Miguel, my best friend, said his mom drove to the ValuMart to ask if they stocked it because he waited too long to get it and she was told they don’t stock anything corporate doesn’t think sells.”

“Why did Miguel not get it from the Saveway?”

Zack made a face. “Cause he forgot to tell his mom she should have and she works at the ValuMart.”

Eliot nodded understanding. “So why don’t you want to get everything now?”

Zack shrugged restlessly. “Cause you’re not Dad.”

Unsurprised by that comment, Eliot said, “Well, your dad’s going to be taking it easy for a few weeks at least. They put a titanium valve in his heart. So you have me or you get to figure out how you’re going to get everything you need on your own.”

Zack pouted and started to protest. “I could ride my bike over.”

Eliot cut him off with a mild, “Didn’t you tell me riding bikes isn’t cool when you’re fifteen?”

“You’re no fun,” Zack complained.

Eliot ignored him in favor of getting dinner ready.

After dinner, Eliot made Zack help him clean up the dishes.

“Can I watch TV?” Zack asked. “Miguel and I always watch _Mechaheart_ together and text each other while we’re watching it.”

Eliot checked the list Geoffrey had sent him and saw that the series had a note (“Zack will get excited and text Miguel but let him work through it unless he gets upset”), so Eliot said, “Sure. Don’t get too into it.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “I won’t. Last time I got too upset, I broke my phone and Dad took away my phone privileges for a month.”

Satisfied the fifteen-year-old would be occupied for the next forty-five minutes, Eliot went to check on his brother. Geoffrey was asleep, but his pulse was good and he didn’t seem to be in pain. Eliot’s lips quirked in a sad smile as he saw that Geoffrey still slept on the left side of the bed, as if expecting his late wife to take the right side.

For a moment, Eliot allowed himself to remember his sister-in-law. Vivacious, charming, observant, and pretty, Marie had impressed Eliot with her fierce determination and keen intelligence. When he’d finally met her, nearly a year after their wedding, she’d simply asked, “Will I like it if you tell me the truth about why you couldn’t come to the wedding?”

“No,” he’d replied.

“Then don’t, unless I need it to tell the ER doc why you’re bleeding on my carpet.”

He’d been surprised by that answer.

“My sorority sister was from a military family. She said if I ever knew anyone who was in the military and couldn’t come to a family event, then the question I should ask was not ‘where were you’ but ‘what can you tell me?’” Marie had smiled wryly.

“Nothing,” he’d said.

“Ah, so you’re a James Bond, got it,” she’d joked. “Or would you prefer Indiana Jones?”

When he’d approached her about going into a hospice for her end-of-life cancer care, Marie had been just treated for the first stage of her cancer, and the doctors had thought they’d caught it all. “You’re asking me to make a decision your brother won’t make because he loves me, and you think the odds are against me.”

Eliot had held her gaze. “You’ve heard the doctors. I’ve read the research; talked to a few people who know. People like you who get diagnosed with that type of cancer have a greater chance of it coming back.”

Marie had smiled wryly. “Funny thing is, I was just going to call you and ask you if you knew someplace that would take care of me. You ever going to tell me what you do for a living?”

“You wouldn’t like the answer if I did,” Eliot had told her then.

“Ah, so you _are_ tilting at windmills, then,” she’d joked, then sobered. “Send me the details and I’ll present it to Geoffrey. He won’t like it but the doc said I need to set this stuff up now while I still can think.”

The memory faded as Eliot stepped out of the master bedroom. Seeing that Zack had left the living room and shut off the TV, Eliot then checked on his nephew. Hearing him in the shower, Eliot left him alone.

Eliot gave into the urge to do a perimeter check. Not finding anything amiss, he then stepped into the garage to think.

He remembered telling Nate that he hadn’t known he’d wanted a home and two people to love and a purpose that stood for the greater good until Nate had made it happen for him. Now that part was done, Eliot wasn’t sure where to go from where he stood. He’d woken up on Monday, cuddled against Parker and hearing Hardison already hitting the keyboard as if he’d been trying to make up time. Eliot hadn’t wanted to move, not even to get Hardison to stop typing. It had felt normal and safe and nearly perfect, and he’d wanted to freeze that moment as if it were in a photograph. Then Parker had woken up, kissed him slowly, and he’d gotten distracted by her kisses. Somewhere in the haze of kissing, Eliot had heard his phone ring, and then Hardison had joined in, claiming it wasn’t fair that Eliot was getting all of the morning love.

Eliot wanted to tell them that it was fair, that loving them meant they got everything he had to give and then some, but the words had stuck in his mouth. Hearing his voicemail before lunch had meant he’d had time enough to panic. Hardison and Parker had tried to calm him down, then distract him when it became clear he wasn’t going to tell them what was making him worried, but it had only added to his desire to be alone.

For the moment, he was alone and the house was quiet. Even the katydids and crickets outside had quieted, leaving him hearing the unique silence that was late evening in summer in a small town in northern Illinois. Eliot had almost forgotten what that kind of lack of noise sounded like; he’d gotten used to having to filter through the sound of cars and EMT vehicles passing, the occasional shout of passerby, even the noise from the pub, just so he could hear Parker’s approach or Hardison’s attempts at stealth.

Wryly, Eliot admitted he wanted to be with his lovers instead.

The next morning, Zack threw a tantrum over wanting to go anywhere. Eliot reminded him that he’d agreed that they could wait until the following day to go, when the store was likely to be less full of people. Zack made an unhappy face at that and didn’t leave his room the rest of the day until his favorite show was on.

Eliot used the time to check in on his brother, who was a little more aware and awake, and hungry. Eliot served Geoffrey a light dinner and then waited while his brother took a shower and changed clothes before deciding to go back to bed.

Just as he was shutting the master bedroom door, Eliot heard Zack swearing and quickly moved to the living room.

Zack was stomping his feet and on his way to a tantrum. “No, no, no! Why can’t she just stop?”

“Who?”

“Grandmother,” Zack said, and thrust his phone at Eliot.

Eliot saw the phone was open to the messaging app.

 _“I’ll be over tomorrow so we can shop together for your school stuff! Won’t that be great?”_ read the text message from Barbara Slayton.

Zack had typed, “No.”

_“Now don’t be silly. You can’t shop by yourself and your father isn’t well enough to drive yet. I’ll be over tomorrow to pick you up.”_

“No,” Zack had typed again. “Uncle Eliot’s here and he’s taking me.”

 _“He doesn’t know where to take you,”_ Barbara had typed. _“We’ll go to Bullseye and ValuMart and get everything you need. My treat.”_

Some instinct told Eliot this wasn’t the first time Barbara had tried to contact Zack. Eliot scrolled through the messaging history and saw that she’d texted her grandson on the day they’d brought Geoffrey to the hospital, wanting to know if and when Geoffrey would be released, claiming she wanted to send Geoffrey a get-well gift. Zack had told her no, the hospital didn’t allow get-well gifts in the surgery recovery rooms (a white lie – Eliot knew he and Zack had brought a get-well balloon since floral arrangements weren’t allowed), and she’d proceeded to text him every day with variations of the same request. She’d even managed to find out the day of the shopping trip by simply asking repeatedly when they were going to go.

Anger at her insistence simmering to a boil, Eliot forced himself to calm, aware that his nephew was watching. Before he did anything else, Eliot looked through the messaging app and figured out how to block the number on both texting and phone calls.

“See?” Zack said, his voice trembling with a combination of rage and frustration.

Eliot pocketed his nephew’s phone. “Yes. Don’t let her get to you. Breathe, Zack. She’s your grandmother but that doesn’t give her any right to disrespect you.”

“She’s gonna show up tomorrow and be angry,” Zack said, breathing heavily.

Aware that Zack was watching him, Eliot deliberately eased his shoulders and breathed several calm breaths. He watched as his nephew took the cue and breathed with him.

“Let her show up,” Eliot said finally. “I’ll deal with her.”

Zack looked at him. “Like you did at the hospital?”

Eliot nodded. He pulled out Zack’s phone from his pocket. “I blocked her so you won’t hear from her anymore. You want to watch the end of this episode?”

Zack shook his head. “Nah. Miguel got yelled at by his mom so I told him I’d wait.” He studied Eliot a moment. “You gonna make Grandmother say she’s sorry?”

“She’s not the kind of person who apologizes.”

The fifteen-year-old considered that notion. “Is it okay if I say I don’t want to ever talk to her again?”

“Yes,” Eliot assured him. “You should tell your dad that.”

“I did but he didn’t believe me then.”

Eliot looked surprised. “When was that?”

“When he told me he had to have surgery.”

Eliot patted Zack’s shoulder reassuringly. “Your dad tends to believe in people.”

Zack’s mouth twisted. “Then how come he didn’t believe me?”

“He believed you,” Eliot hastened to assure his nephew. “He just didn’t believe Barbara could piss him off.”

“Oh,” Zack said in a small voice. “Do you think Dad’s going to be well enough to go with us tomorrow?”

“Probably not,” Eliot told him. “But I’m sure he’ll want to know if we got everything.”

* * *

Once Eliot had gotten Zack to bed, he stepped out to the garage and called Hardison. The anger he’d pushed aside in order to keep his nephew calm resurfaced as the phone rang, and Eliot deliberately made himself focus. Later would be soon enough to take advantage of the punching bag in the corner of the garage.

“Hey! Didn’t think I’d hear from you,” the hacker said, sounding pleased. “What can I do for you?”

“Look up a Barbara Glover Slayton, from Stone Hollow, Illinois. She wants money and I want to know why.”

He heard Hardison tapping keys.

“Man, she’s broke. Got seven different credit cards, all maxed out, and damn. Woman likes to shop.” Hardison paused a moment. “Ooh. Pattern of purchases makes it look like she buys stuff to buy stuff. Like if I had to guess, she’s addicted to shopping. Where’d you find her?”

Eliot took a deep breath. “She’s my brother’s mother-in-law. Technically, ex, since his wife died.”

The line hummed with silence for a long moment. “Was wondering when you’d admit you had a brother. I mean, I figured when you said you had a nephew you had a sibling but I wasn’t gonna ask, y’know, and –”

“Hardison,” Eliot growled. “Focus. Tell me if Barbara’s going to be a problem.”

“Well, she owes money on a couple of title loans, but they’re all to registered companies, and title loans aren’t illegal in Illinois. They just have to have equal payments. They’re sharks, just like payday loans, and from what I can see, the companies are trying to collect within the law. Do I think they’re sleazy? Hell yeah. Sleazy enough for us? Not yet.” Hardison paused, and from the sound of the plastic bottle, Eliot surmised Hardison was drinking soda. “If I was looking at Barbara as someone we could run game on, I’d say no. She’ll fold if you put enough pressure on her, and that ain’t our kind of fun. I mean, unless you want us to come out there and help?”

“No. I’ll take care of her.”

“She’s not the reason your brother had heart surgery, is it?”

“No,” Eliot growled. “And how’d you know he had heart surgery?”

Hardison sounded affronted as he replied, “I listened to your voicemail. You do know I can hack that kind of thing in my sleep, right? And I provided you with that phone? You left without finishing a meal. You never leave like that unless something bad’s happened to someone you care about. Made me wonder.”

Eliot leaned his head against the wall of the garage and silently swore. “Do you always listen to my voicemail?”

“Hey. I only promised I would leave you alone to whatever you need, man,” Hardison hastened to assure him. “You’d go looking for answers if it was me leaving an orange soda unattended. And most of the time, I don’t listen or look at your voicemails or email. Just when you make me wonder if whoever’s calling you wants the kind of shit you used to do, and how much trouble we’ll be in if you try to handle it on your own. I mean, San Lorenzo was not a cakewalk, and I never want to see you like that again. You were ten kinds of scary.”

Eliot closed his eyes briefly as he let out a slow breath. Hardison had a point. “Didn’t want you thinking you needed to do anything.”

“Aw, man, that’s where you’re wrong,” Hardison drawled. “If there’s one thing I know about families, it’s that there’s always something or someone that will stress you out.”

Eliot chuckled ruefully. “Did you tell Parker?”

“Of course I told Parker,” Hardison replied, sounding offended. “You know how she can spiral if she doesn’t know where you are and how you’re doing.”

Eliot closed his eyes briefly. Parker tried her best to pretend she could survive without Eliot and Hardison, but both men knew how much it would break her if something happened to them. Eliot never forgot how she’d clung to Hardison after he’d been buried alive and they’d almost failed to rescue him in time. “I can’t leave until Geoffrey’s stable enough to be on his own. Be at least another two days, maybe three.”

“Like we expect you here? Aw, come on, who do you think we are? Bunch of idiots? Please,” Hardison drawled. “Parker’s fine now she knows where you are. She’s trying out new rigging – got her some new rope from REI and she’s in her warehouse testing it. Long as she doesn’t expect me to test any of it while we’re on a job, I’m okay.”

“Then remember to ask her when we’re getting the gear ready, not when she’s handing it to you to put on,” Eliot reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, and she’ll tell me the same thing she always does: that she tested it and it’s fine. You know it’s not fine. Me screaming my ass off is never, ever going to be fine.” Hardison heaved a sigh. “But back to this Barbara – anything else you want to know?”

Eliot considered. “How broke is broke?”

“150k,” Hardison told him. “And I wouldn’t suggest paying it off, either. She’ll just come back for more once she knows the well’s there, just like any addict.”

“Damn it,” Eliot swore. “Any suggestions?”

“Make sure she can’t touch any of your brother’s or nephew’s accounts, first off,” Hardison told him, and tapped keys. “Which it looks like she can’t do – hold on.” He tapped more keys, and several minutes passed while he pulled together data. “Damn, someone was thinking. She’s barred from touching anything in her daughter’s estate that was not explicitly given to her. Ooh. Nasty,” Hardison said, sounding impressed. “Someone didn’t trust their mama much. Interesting. Also, it looks like your brother gave you power of attorney for him and your nephew.”

“Which means what?”

“Means that as long as you’re acting in your brother’s or nephew’s best interests, that woman can’t touch you. So if she tries to have you arrested for blocking her, as long as you haven’t touched her, threatened her, or given her reason to believe she is in physical danger, you’re in the clear.” Hardison paused. “But Illinois state law regarding stalking says you have to have two or more acts to show the court that a reasonable person would fear for their safety or for the safety of another person, or suffer emotional distress. I mean, that’s if you wanted to file for one, and let me tell you, that state law is only good as the paper it’s written on. One of my foster sisters had a restraining order against her boyfriend and he still found a way to beat her up and put her in the hospital.” Hardison sounded disgusted. “For what it’s worth, Oregon’s laws about stalking are better – you only need the one time – but I quit believing a long time ago that anti-stalking orders meant anything other than having a history with the court.” More cheerfully, he added, “Which, granted, is a good thing in the long run, but man, I’ve seen too many people hurt before then.”

“Got it,” Eliot said.

“Oh, and one more thing. I suggest you get your brother and your nephew out of anywhere she can get to easily.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because if she’s anything like my foster sister who kept begging Nana for money long after she turned 18, she’ll keep boomeranging back, no matter what happens, and that’s no good for someone with a heart condition.”

Eliot grimaced. “Got it. Can you check on the security setup on a store called Saveway?”

Hardison tapped keys. “The gas station across the street’s got a hackable feed but that store looks like straight out of 1980. Could be that they upgraded but I doubt it.”

Eliot considered the information as he heard Hardison tapping keys.

“Looks like the store upgraded its registers to accept PIN cards – there’s an invoice for shipment from a cash register company dated a month ago, but I’m not seeing anything in their system for security. They’re still running Windows 97 on their store computers, but at least it looks like someone there’s keeping up with the updates. Anything else?”

Eliot considered. “Can you look up the school records for Zack Larson?”

“He your nephew? Problems?”

“Hardison –”

“Fine, I won’t ask. But you know this is petty stuff, right? Like I did this sort of thing when I was 14.” Hardison fell silent a moment as he typed commands into his program. “Okay, he’s a good student. Made honor roll last year, but he’s got a flag on his file. Why – oh. His dad not tell you his kid’s got issues?”

“I knew that already,” Eliot growled. “Just considering the angles. How hard do you think it would be for a kid like that to transfer schools?”

“Depends. I mean, his grades are good enough that a school might not have as many problems, especially if he comes with a therapist’s recommendation. Not that I ever faked one of those, you know what I’m saying.”

“Don’t mess with it,” Eliot warned.

“Yet?” Hardison asked hopefully. “Because if this is your nephew’s file, I can make that note go away.”

“No. His father remembers like I do, and taking it away is not going to help Zack. He gets upset, he hits things – including other people.”

“Oh. In that case, I’ll just exit out of there like I was never there in the first place,” Hardison said hastily.

Eliot heard keys being typed, and knew that Hardison had been a keystroke or two away from making the change permanent. “Hardison, if you messed with Zack’s file –”

“Hey, easy, easy, I’m just leaving it the way it was,” Hardison soothed. “You know I’ll always protect what matters to me, and since he’s your nephew, that means he counts.” The hacker paused. “Hey, Eliot? Something going on that we need to know about?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eliot countered. “Especially with the info you just gave me.”

“You change your mind on that, we can be there in four hours. You know Parker will worry until you’re back.”

For the first time since he’d begun his conversation with Hardison, Eliot smiled. “Tell Parker I’ll be fine.”

“That the Aerosmith definition or fine as in you promise to get back to us with no new bruises, bullet holes, or bandages?”

Eliot grinned. “I promise. Thanks, Hardison.” He disconnected the line before the hacker could say anything more.

In Portland, Hardison looked at his computer. “Why do I not like that he made that promise?” he asked the room. “Because it’s Eliot,” he said, answering his own question. “Day he makes promises is the day he’s not looking out for his back.”

Returning his focus to the computer, he said, “So let’s see what I can do to make that not a problem.”

Unexpectedly, Parker dangled from a ceiling tile, startling him. “What problem?”

Hardison pressed a hand to his chest and desperately tried to ratchet down his surprise. He’d known Parker had a rigging in the ceiling and sometimes slept up there with nothing more to hold her up than a trio of ropes laced into a rough hammock. “Damn it, Parker, how many times do I have to tell you to not do that to me?”

Parker eyed him. “You forgot I was up there?”

“No, I did _not_ forget. I didn’t know you were up there. I thought you were in your warehouse.”

“Oh. I was; I came here.” Parker disconnected herself from the rigging and dropped easily to stand next to Hardison. “Eliot called? What does he want us to do?”

“Nothing, as usual.”

Parker studied Hardison a moment. “You’re not going to let that stand, are you?”

“No, baby, I’m not. It’s his family, man. Least we can do is set up the contingency plans, make sure that bitch mother-in-law can’t touch Eliot’s brother’s house with a lien on it or shit like that.” He tapped his monitor.

She studied Hardison’s computer screens, which showed the school record for Zack on one monitor, Geoffrey’s Illinois driver’s license on another, and Barbara Slayton’s credit history on the one in the middle with her driver’s license photo in one corner.

“We also need to make sure she gets arrested,” Parker declared. “Else they won’t be able to go. She’ll burn the house down.”

Hardison looked at her, then at the photo of Barbara. “What are you seeing that I’m not?” he wondered.

“She could,” she said defensively. “And I don’t want Eliot to be sad. He was sad six months ago and wouldn’t say anything other than he lost someone he knew.”

Hardison eyed her. “Yeah, and maybe you knew someone like her, who went from shopping addict to arson?”

“So?” Parker crossed her arms defensively.

“So yeah, we’ll make sure she can’t touch Eliot, Geoffrey, or Zack,” Hardison said, as if that was obvious.

Parker kissed him. “I’ll go get some food for us then. You’re out of orange soda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerosmith definition: Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Geoffrey was feeling well enough to bid them goodbye, though he drew the line at going any further than the living room.

Eliot drove Zack to Saveway, a small but well-stocked general store at the southern edge of town. As a whole, Stone Hollow reminded Eliot of the town he’d grown up in, with a main street that ran the length of the town and was designated a state highway. Geoffrey and Marie had relocated to Stone Hollow shortly after adopting Zack, wanting to raise their son in a house they could afford while still living within driving distance of Chicago.

In an effort to stay alive, Saveway had focused on what its customers wanted: to not be forced to drive to the neighboring cities or worse, to Chicago, for basic goods. As Eliot stepped into the store, he saw that the security camera setup appeared to be from the early 1990s or earlier, given that the two cameras he could see were visible and bulky enough to be VHS recorders rather than digital. He was glad, though, that he’d taken the precaution of wearing a baseball cap. A handwritten sign near the door announced, “Now accepting chip and PIN cards, including EBT!” The store’s setup looked like a dozen other small-town general stores – grocery to the right, dry goods to the left, checkout stands immediately at the front of the store near the exits – and Eliot was struck suddenly by a visceral sense of déjà vu, even though he’d never been in the store prior to now, so great was the familiarity. He knew he’d shopped at a store just like this when he was younger. He shook the memory off, aware that he needed to focus on his nephew.

Zack bounced impatiently as he pushed a cart. “Come on, Uncle Eliot, most of the stuff’s over on the other side of the store.”

It took Zack and Eliot nearly an hour to complete the list of items he needed for school. In addition to the usual assortment of school supplies, he needed clothes and new shoes.

“Back to school time, huh, Zack?” the cashier asked as she scanned the items Eliot had laid on the belt. She was an older woman whose nametag said Jeannie; she had the look of someone who’d started cashiering in high school and never left.

“Yeah,” Zack said. “Freshman year.”

“Already?” Jeannie asked, feigning surprise. “You excited?”

“Not really. Everyone’s the same as last year.”

“Could be different,” Jeannie said. “You know some kids go to Chicago for high school. Not everyone stays in Stone Hollow.”

“I know, but I was hoping the bullies would all go. Miguel says they’re all staying here.”

Jeannie looked sympathetic. “Maybe they got a clue over the summer. You never know.”

Zack made a face.

Jeannie said reassuringly, “It’ll be okay. Just you wait and see.” She turned to Eliot. “You must be the mysterious brother we rarely see. Come to visit?”

Eliot nodded. “Bullies?”

“The Murray kids and their cousins,” she told Eliot. “If they were my kids, they’d get more than a timeout for the way they tease the other kids. Their mother likes to tell us all about how free-range parenting is better,” she harrumphed.

“How come they get away with it?” Eliot asked.

Zack exchanged a look with Jeannie.

“Money talks. The Murrays own the fire hydrant factory,” Jeannie explained. “The cousins own the feed store.”

Eliot scowled at that news. A small town like this, even one within driving distance of Chicago, was still small enough to have its economy skewed towards factory workers and farmers. “Someone ought to stand up against them.”

“Believe me, I have, when my kids were younger. They don’t mess with mine anymore.” She looked at Zack even as she continued to scan items. “Next time they bother you, you let me know, okay, Zack?”

Zack didn’t acknowledge the offer.

Jeannie shrugged as if she’d expected that. She finished scanning the rest of the purchases in silence as a young man bagged the items at the end of the cash wrap. “Your total’s one hundred thirty-seven dollars. Tell Geoffrey he’ll want to wash those jeans twice before Zack wears them else they’ll stain everything blue.”

Eliot nodded acknowledgement and slid his credit card through the reader. Jeannie processed the transaction and handed him the receipt. The bagger had just placed the last bag in the cart when Barbara rushed over.

“Oh, there you are!”

Zack looked at Eliot, who quickly traded places with him so that he could push the cart out of the check lane.

“Get to the car and stay there,” Eliot told his nephew, passing him the car keys.

Hearing Zack move, Eliot backed out of the check lane, forcing Barbara to follow him.

She smiled at him. Like the other day, she was dressed fashionably but inappropriately for where she was. “I was hoping to catch you before you left,” she said, one arm outstretched as if to hug him.

Eliot crossed his arms and blocked her from going any farther with his presence alone. He knew exactly how to lift someone’s wallet; he wasn’t about to let Barbara get that close.

Caught off guard, Barbara stumbled as she drew up short. “You are a strange man,” she said. “Do you not want hugs?”

“No. Why are you here, Barbara?”

Barbara fluttered her eyelashes, pressed a hand to her chest, and tried to switch tactics. “To ask you how Geoffrey’s doing, of course. I tried calling Zack to remind him we always go school shopping together but his phone just wouldn’t connect me. I don’t understand why.”

“You know why. Try again.”

Barbara’s mouth twisted in a scowl. “Why won’t you help me?”

“Because it’s not just this one time, Barbara, and it won’t ever be,” Eliot told her. He heard footsteps and the distinctive jangle of a policeman in full uniform and glanced to his left to see a heavyset man in a local officer’s uniform. He looked at the cop inquiringly and braced for the worst.

“Mrs. Slayton, if you would please come with me?”

“For what?” Barbara demanded.

“The attendant at the gas station said you didn’t pay for your gas and your card was declined.”

“I was just coming to borrow the cash from my son-in-law’s brother!” she tried to argue.

“Not what you said,” Eliot declared as he moved out of range of anywhere she could reach. Some instinct told him she might use this new situation as a distraction; he knew Sophie would. “And I told you before, you aren’t getting anything out of me, my brother, or my nephew.”

Barbara shrieked in frustration, but Eliot had had enough. “If you don’t need me, Officer, my nephew’s waiting in the car.”

The cop looked at Eliot. “Ah, so you’re Geoffrey’s brother. Tell him we’re praying for him to get well. You’re free to go.” The cop turned his focus on Barbara and Eliot walked out of the store.

He found Zack sitting on the hood of the rental and playing with a fidget spinner. “She gone?” Zack asked as he hopped off the hood.

“For now,” Eliot said.

“Thanks, Uncle Eliot,” Zack said seriously.

At a stoplight, Eliot asked casually, “Do you like the school you’re going to?”

Zack shrugged. “It’s okay. I wish we lived in Chicago. There’s this awesome magnet school where you can do all this really cool science stuff and you get college credit at the same time. I could go there but Dad doesn’t want to move. He says the house is paid off, whatever that means.”

Eliot glanced at his nephew. “What kind of science do you want to do?”

“Biomedical research, ‘cause I could find out what makes some people get cancer like Mom did.”

Eliot reached over and gripped Zack’s hand reassuringly. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

As if Eliot’s words had opened the floodgates, Zack continued eagerly, “And you know what else would be cool? If I could find a way to make it so people didn’t have to get practically poisoned so they can live longer when they get cancer, and then they can hug their families and not have their families worry about germs.” Zack’s voice trembled, and Eliot braced for an outburst. Much to his surprise, Zack breathed deep and controlled himself. “And, and, then Grandmother would have suck eggs because I’d prove she was wrong all along and I’m not broken like she thinks I am because I have a therapist. Even if I do think Dr. Green is kinda dumb.”

“Why?”

“Because Dr. Green doesn’t know shit about being a teenager. She’s like, old.”

Eliot glanced at Zack at the swear word and Zack shrugged. “She is. Not like you.”

“Oh, you don’t think I’m old?”

“No, ‘cause you don’t think or act old,” Zack said. “I wish I had a different doctor. She keeps trying to tell Dad he should change my drugs and I liked my old one better.”

“What did you like about your old one?”

“Dr. Schwannity was cool. She’d ask me what the newest slang words were and I’d tell her I wouldn’t know because I didn’t have friends who talked like that,” Zack said, bouncing a little in his seat.

The drive back to the Larson house was nearly over; Eliot made the last turn into the driveway and shut off the engine. “Anything else?”

Zack looked at him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “She said drugs were a last resort, that kids shouldn’t be doped up. She’s who I thought of when you told me I had the tools. She said that when I did get drugs, I shouldn’t be mad at my mom or dad because the drugs were supposed to help me, and if I ever felt like they weren’t, I should go back to using the tools she gave me.”

“So what happened that you aren’t seeing her anymore?”

Zack pouted. “She moved to Detroit,” he said, and exited the car.

Once they were back at the house, he helped Zack stack the purchases into ‘needs washing’ and ‘to be used for school.’

“How much I owe you?” Geoffrey asked from his position on the couch.

Eliot gave him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look.

Geoffrey shrugged ruefully and winced as the movement pulled at his stitches. “Guy’s gotta try. Will you at least let me help you cook dinner?”

“If you’re up to it, sure.”

Eliot waited until Zack was in his room before he sat down on the ottoman, facing his brother. “Your mother-in-law is not going to stop.”

Grimacing, Geoffrey said, “Jeannie called me, said Barbara made a scene at the store.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow at that.

“Jeannie used to babysit Zack,” Geoffrey offered by way of explanation.

Eliot nodded in understanding.

“Something tells me this isn’t the first time Barbara’s done something,” Geoffrey said. “You’d let it go if it was just one time.”

“She tried to break into the house when we were at the hospital using a key she obtained from somewhere and she made a scene when the nurse refused to allow her to see you. I warned her to leave you and Zack alone.”

“And you didn’t tell me about this because I was in too much pain to process,” Geoffrey noted, his voice heavy with resignation. “That look you have says you don’t think anything you’ve told her will keep her from being a thorn in my side.”

Eliot shook his head. “She’s an addict who likes spending money.”

Geoffrey sighed. “And here I was thinking she owed some gangster. Look, Eliot, I don’t expect you to solve my problems for me, as much as you keep finding amazing solutions to them.”

That garnered a smile and nod from Eliot.

Geoffrey blew out a breath. “Is this where you tell me you have some pressing mission to get back to and you’re going to set me up with a home care nurse who’s some ex-SpecOps agent?”

Eliot eyed his brother, surprised at the supposition. Was he that predictable? Or just that willing to throw a reasonable solution that allowed him to disengage from further contact with his brother, no harm, no foul? Eliot knew he’d been prone to doing the latter more back before he’d become part of Leverage Consulting. “No, but I’m tempted,” he growled, suspecting his brother expected that reply. “But you’ll have to settle for me.”

Chuckling, Geoffrey said, “So what then?”

“Come back to Portland with me,” Eliot said. “You need to be somewhere Barbara can’t touch you. The last thing you need is more stress, wondering when she’s going to come back.”

Geoffrey sat up a little straighter. “I can’t just leave here. Zack starts school in two weeks. I’m supposed to be back at work by then. Where would I work? My cardiologist is here and Zack’s therapist is here. Hell, Eliot, I _like_ my job. Do you know how many restaurants would let me take as much time off this year as I have?”

“They have to – they’re big enough to bound by FMLA,” Eliot countered. “Unless you’re working somewhere other than for the Mosaic Restaurant Group and haven’t told me.”

Geoffrey sighed. “No. But damn it, I can’t just pack up like you do. Zack needs stability; moving him is a no-go as long as he’s got issues. Plus, this house here – it’s paid off, thanks to you. That Mustang – I’d like to finish putting it together before Zack goes off to college. Do you even have a place? The only address I have for you is a PO Box in Boston, and the last time I sent you something there it came back with ‘undeliverable.’”

Eliot met his brother’s gaze. “Yes, a two-bedroom condo in a secure, private building in downtown Portland. I haven’t given you the address because I barely live there. I’d have given you my current PO box if you’d told me you needed it.”

Geoffrey waved off the offer. “Not the point and you know it.” He met Eliot’s gaze. “You’ve lived out of that duffel bag of yours more years than you’ll ever tell me. I used to think if I had a house, you’d call it home, but I gave up on that a while back. Not when you paid it off when you heard Marie had cancer. You honestly think Barbara’s that big of a threat?”

“Not willing to stick around to find out if she’s smart enough to put a lien on the house or try to hurt you or Zack,” Eliot countered.

Geoffrey shook his head. “I don’t think she’s that smart, but given how persistent she’s been, I…” He looked away for a moment and swore. “Fuck. You act like you’ve seen this kind of behavior before.”

Eliot said nothing, aware that his brother would interpret it for assent.

“Fuck,” Geoffrey repeated. “Fine. What makes you think I can’t wait?”

“Because she’s not going to stop. She’ll ignore any restraining or anti-stalking order and tell all her friends and anyone who’ll listen that you’re the one who’s hysterical or out of line,” Eliot said. “She’ll use Zack to her advantage, wear at him until he either blows up or gives in. She won’t care what happens. You’ll think – maybe this once, I’ll give in – but she already had that chance, and you told her to get the hell out. I know you like to forgive people, but she’s not worth it.”

Geoffrey digested this for several minutes before letting out a breath and looking at his brother. “Good point. All right, say I say yes to this plan of yours and we get the fuck out before Barbara does something else. Where will we live? Where will Zack go to school and who’ll he see for his therapy? Where will I work?”

“Like I told you a long time ago, Geoffrey. Name it and I’ll make it happen. House in the suburbs, good school district, a good therapist for Zack, whatever you need. You need a job? I have a brewpub that could use a good operations manager.”

“Damn it.” Geoffrey closed his eyes briefly. “Have I mentioned you have a bad habit of stacking the deck? You always did.”

Eliot half-smiled but said nothing.

“Look, I’ve known for a while you do shit that would get you arrested,” Geoffrey began. “But if I’m going to consider this, level with me. Tell me the rest of the shit you haven’t been telling me, because if I’m right there with you, I’ll be right there in it.”

Eliot had known that by offering his brother the job in the brewpub, he would have to come clean about what he did for a living. He took a deep breath and said, “My partners and I go after bad guys who use the law to their advantage and hide behind it to make good people go away. We provide leverage to good people who’d otherwise get no justice.”

“Is it legal?”

“No,” Eliot admitted. “We break the law as often as we bend it, but as much as we can, we find the loopholes and use the same tactics the rich and powerful would use to exploit others against them. Sometimes we find stuff that the three of us won’t touch with a ten-foot-pole – that stuff, we tip off police.”

“Like what?”

“Human trafficking, prostitution, drug dealers, underage porn, and anything involving wild animals,” Eliot said.

Geoffrey winced at the list. “Yeah, I can see why you might not want to go there. So who do you work with?

“One of my partners is a genius hacker named Alec Hardison. Give him a keyboard and a network connection and he can make anything happen. My other partner’s a thief and a mastermind who only goes by one name: Parker. She’s twenty pounds of crazy in a ten-pound bag, but she sees things other people take for granted.” Pride and love filled his voice as he added, “I’d follow them anywhere and protect them with everything I have. Together we’ve made a difference and changed lives for people who would have to live with getting screwed by the system.”

Geoffrey stared. “Ten years ago, you told me you made a killing on the stock market, but that wasn’t the whole story, was it?”

“No.” Eliot grinned, remembering how that job had gone. “Nigerians had something to do with it.”

“Nigerians?” Geoffrey asked, incredulous. “Not like the email scam?”

“No, actual Nigerians.”

Geoffrey stared at him, clearly unsure as to whether he wanted the full story, and just as clearly deciding he didn’t. “So no blood money.”

Eliot smiled humorlessly. “Not then or since then. I didn’t want you spending money that had that kind of debt on it unless I was dead.”

“You kill anyone doing what you do now?”

“No,” Eliot said flatly. “I did enough of that shit to last me a lifetime.”

Geoffrey was silent several minutes as he digested what he’d heard. “This Parker and Alex–”

“Alec, not Alex, and I usually call him Hardison.”

“You love them and it scares you to death,” Geoffrey observed. “Know how I know? You get that soft look when you talk about them.”

Eliot glared at him, but his little brother was immune. “And?” he settled for growling.

“You know Marie told me you’d fallen in love? I told her you’d just gotten out of the soldier-for-hire business; of course you’d be less tense.” Geoffrey was enjoying this moment, Eliot could tell. “She said it had to be someone you didn’t think I’d accept. Were you afraid I’d love you less for falling for a guy? Or think you’re some kind of weirdo for loving two people?”

Eliot’s breath caught. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone–”

“I’m not our father,” Geoffrey said sharply. “And you’re not the first person I’ve known to be in a polyamorous relationship. Back when I was still working the line at a restaurant in downtown Chicago, one of the servers asked me if I was interested. I tried it for about three weeks and decided it wasn’t worth the extra drama.” He met Eliot’s gaze and added more gently, “Honestly, given the life you’ve led, I’ve been prepared to expect anything and everything from you.” Geoffrey studied him a moment before adding, “And for the first time I can remember since we were kids, you want everyone you love somewhere you can protect them. Where you know all the exits.”

“Something wrong with that?” Eliot growled.

Geoffrey chuckled. He knew Eliot’s bark was nowhere near his bite. “No, but why don’t we start slow and you introduce me and Zack to them and we can scope out things?”

“Because Barbara lives here,” Eliot pointed out, “and while public humiliation is a strong motivator, she’s always going to be around. If you were to move, she’s less likely to come running.” The instinct that someone was trying to be quiet as they creeped into the living room blared an alarm, but Eliot had calculated his nephew wouldn’t stay away for long, and kept on talking. “Besides, weren’t you telling me a few weeks ago that you were getting tired of crunching numbers in the back room and wanted to work someplace where you got to talk to more people?”

“Can we go?” Zack asked, surprising both men.

“Zackary, this is a conversation between me and Eliot –” Geoffrey started, but Eliot held up a hand.

“Why do you want to go?” Eliot asked the teenager.

“Because I don’t want to be bullied anymore,” Zack said. “Everyone at school knows I go to therapy ever since the substitute teacher read my excuse note aloud in homeroom.”

Shocked, Geoffrey said, “You never mentioned that. When did that happen?”

“Couple of weeks before Mom died,” Zack said. “I told Mom.”

Eliot knew that towards the end, Marie had been on such high pain management that she’d been barely coherent. From the look on Zack’s face, Eliot suspected his nephew had been aware that his mother would not have been coherent enough to process anything he’d said, let alone repeat it to anyone else.

“Is that why you came home with bruises that one day?” Geoffrey demanded. “Because you got into a fight?”

“I didn’t hit back until they threw the first punch,” Zack said. “And someone saw and it got broken up before anyone really got hurt.”

Eliot looked at his brother, who had a look of mixed fatherly pride and horror on his face. “You shouldn’t have fought anyone, Zack.”

“They were calling me a motherless weirdo. Mom wasn’t dead yet!”

“Moving to a new place isn’t going to keep bullies from showing up,” Geoffrey managed.

“Yes, but at least they’ll be new bullies, not ones who’ve known me for years like this town,” Zack argued. “Please, Dad. Another four years here is going to be hell.”

Geoffrey sighed and gestured for Zack to come in close for a hug, which the teenager did reluctantly. “I love you so much, son, you know that? But who’s going to be your therapist?”

“Someone who doesn’t think what you do for a living to afford her fee is work for the Mafia?” Zack asked as he wriggled out of the embrace.

Geoffrey put his head into his hands. “Go back to your room, Zack. Eliot and I need to talk. And no eavesdropping, so shut the door.”

Both men waited until the door to Zack’s bedroom was shut before Geoffrey broke the silence. “Did you put him up to that?”

“No,” Eliot said. “But if everyone in town knows your business, that’s not going to make his life easier. You and I know how that goes. Jeannie was telling us about how the Murrays have a lock on this town.”

“Shit. She did warn me, but I thought it wasn’t affecting Zack, because he didn’t say anything about being bothered by them. You know I thought moving here to raise a kid was going to be better than living in the city?” Geoffrey asked rhetorically. “Never thought it would come back to bite me in the ass, because everyone’s been so nice. No wonder the number of people coming around to check in on us has dropped. I’m the guy with the crazy kid.”

“He’s not crazy,” Eliot countered.

“I know that. You know that. But this town won’t ever see anything different. You’re always the label you get slapped with in a town like this. You been back to our hometown lately?”

Eliot nodded. “I saw Aimee some years ago. Someone tried to frame her father for insurance fraud.”

Geoffrey froze. “Aimee said she got help, but she wouldn’t say how or who. That was you?”

Eliot nodded again. “Me and my team.”

Geoffrey looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considered what he knew. “Fuck. The one time I don’t mind that my son hit someone it’s weeks too late to do anything about it.” He breathed out, clearly trying for a calm he didn’t feel.

Eliot knew his brother was slower to anger than he was. He could tell his brother was working up to the kind of cold rage that had driven them both out of Kentucky.

“Anything I can do?” Eliot asked.

“Hand me my phone, will you?”

Eliot rose and picked up his brother’s cell phone from where it lay on the breakfast bar.

Geoffrey immediately dialed someone from his speed-dial list. From the conversation, Eliot deduced that Geoffrey was corroborating his son’s story about the substitute teacher. Once he’d disconnected, Geoffrey exploded, “Fuck. That person I just talked to? That’s the vice principal of the middle school. He goes to the same church and he never said a word to me about why Zack got into a fight. Only that ‘boys will be boys’ and it didn’t matter. No wonder Father Jordan kept saying to me that he’d pray for Zack’s soul to be healed. I thought he was being just the weirdly too-personal guy he’s always been.”

“Probably knows all the gossip in town,” Eliot offered.

Geoffrey grimaced. “Probably spreads it too. His wife’s the high school secretary.”

“Be against his religious ethics.”

Geoffrey slanted him a look. “You don’t believe that for a second, and besides, it’s a nondenominational church. Marie was the religious one; got to be a habit to keep on going. Thought it would do Zack good to hear about God. Should’ve stuck to my theory – that the men claiming to be the voice of God still are men, not God.”

Eliot waited, guessing his brother had more to say.

With some difficulty, Geoffrey rose from the couch – waving off Eliot’s silent offer of assistance – and began to pace slowly. “Have I mentioned I hate bullies?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Eliot allowed with a knowing smile.

Geoffrey didn’t say anything for several minutes as he slowly maneuvered his way around the living room.

“I’ve worked for the Mosaic Restaurant Group for ten years, Eliot. I got 401k, health benefits, seniority – the owners like my work. They like how I look beyond saving them money and think about how those budget cuts affect the menus and the staff of their restaurants. And I gotta think about Zack, bullies or no bullies. I honestly thought he was in a good place, moving through his grief over Marie – but this….” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother. “This says maybe his anger issues aren’t all a chemical imbalance. Maybe it’s this fucking town.”

“You live with him,” Eliot returned, in a tone that implied Geoffrey knew the answer.

Geoffrey closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “You think it’s everything. Fuck.” He took another breath before he exploded, “Fuck this shit. You know what Marie told me when we moved here? That her mother might be here more since we were close enough to her old hometown. Now all I can think about how much interference she must’ve run so I never knew how fucking annoying Barbara really was. Is there something about me that makes people not want to tell me shit?”

“No,” Eliot hastened to assure him.

“But you waited too,” Geoffrey snapped.

Eliot met his angry gaze. “Until you were coherent enough to process this, bro,” he countered quietly. “I wasn’t about to tell you when you were too drugged up to understand anything other than basic commands. You barely understood those as it was.”

Geoffrey clenched his hands into fists before dropping heavily into a seated position onto the couch and hanging his head in his hands. “You were right to wait,” he said by way of apology. “I’d have run over to her house to slap her upside the head, and I’m surprised you aren’t.”

“If I hit her, then she could get me arrested,” Eliot pointed out. “And as long as I do nothing to physically, mentally, or emotionally harm her, she can’t touch me. Unfortunately, the reverse also applies.”

“If I do this,” Geoffrey said, “turn this over to you, tell you to make this move happen, and you get it set up so Zack’s in a good school, and we have doctors for him and me, and we have a place to live, I have a few conditions.”

“What’s that?” Eliot asked.

“One: tell me what you’re doing to make it happen. I don’t need all of the details, but I’d like to have a say over where Zack and I are living and where he’s going to school.”

Eliot nodded readily. “I can put you in my condo for the time being while you figure out where you’d like to live. It’s in northeast Portland, within walking distance of the brewpub, and has two bedrooms. I haven’t slept there a lot lately. Not sure about schools but I’ve heard Portland has some good ones.”

“Fair enough. I take it you’re usually over at Parker’s or Alec’s places?”

Eliot shook his head. “The three of us usually are in the apartment over the brewpub. Sometimes we’re at Hardison’s penthouse because he and I agree that no one should sleep in Parker’s warehouse, and the noise of the pub’s too much for all of us.”

“Warehouse? She sleeps in a warehouse?” Geoffrey asked incredulously.

Eliot smiled wryly. “Parker loves money – not spending it, but collecting it.”

Geoffrey looked askance. “And you let her sleep in a warehouse?”

“Not if I can persuade her to be somewhere else,” Eliot replied evenly. “Temperature controlled or not, that warehouse is no place to live. Only reason she even sees that place as a place to sleep is because she never grew up normal or safe. She grew up in the foster system, and has been a thief since she was in elementary school.”

Geoffrey studied his brother’s face. “She’s the reason you told me not to give up on counseling for Zack.”

Eliot nodded. “I’ll warn you now, she’s socially awkward and liable to say something that you aren’t sure she means the way she said it. She means it; she just doesn’t always know normal people don’t say things like that.”

“Asperger’s?”

Eliot shrugged. “She’ll never willingly see a doctor for a diagnosis; too many people have told her she’s broken. What matters more to me is that she’s talented at what she does, she’s willing to use it for a greater good, and she’s willing to learn and ask questions.” Eliot paused, thinking of Parker. “And she surprises me every time I think I know how she’s going to act when I show her something I think she’ll like.”

“And you count on that,” Geoffrey said knowingly.

“Yeah,” Eliot said, chuckling.

“What does Alec think of her?”

“He fell in love with her first,” Eliot said quietly. “Drove me crazy, because they were both awkward as hell at first but he didn’t push her. Made me reevaluate what I knew about him when I realized that was happening.”

“Before that, what did you think of him?”

“Thought he’d be like any other geek I’ve ever met,” Eliot admitted. “Didn’t expect him to be deeper than that, especially since he tends to talk a good game.” Suspecting his brother wanted more information, Eliot went on, “He’s one of the lucky ones – he had the same foster mother through junior high and high school, but he doesn’t talk about what happened that he ended up in the system. He calls his foster mom ‘Nana’ and he grew up in Chicago. He’s the one who looked up Barbara’s financial records and told me about her spending habits.”

“So what made you decide you wanted to be with Hardison and Parker as more than friends?” Geoffrey wondered. “And we’ll come back to his research in a minute. Because it sounds like you two spent a long time just being friends.”

“We did, five years,” Eliot said with a nod. “A year before he and I got together, we had a case – long story short, but it wound up that Hardison got buried alive. We almost lost him. Decided then I needed to figure out what I wanted from him, because almost losing him terrified me.” He smiled wryly, remembering how he’d spent the next several months mentally unpacking all the reasons why he didn’t want to add himself into the relationship Parker and Hardison had. “Guess I was a little obvious about it, because Parker set me up on a date with him and he asked me point-blank if I wanted something more.”

Geoffrey chuckled. “Sounds like they know you well. He’s not your first male lover, is he?”

Eliot shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell his brother that he’d learned how to use sex with either gender as a weapon. Instead, he chose something happier. “Remember Robert Harding?”

Blinking, Geoffrey asked, “Wasn’t he the one who said he was going to work for some big biotech firm in North Carolina and picked his college based on the proximity to it?”

Eliot nodded. “I ran into him in a bar one night there. He didn’t recognize me; thought I was just some random Army dude. He had a thing for picking up guys in straight bars and taking them home.”

Laughing, Geoffrey said, “Oh man. Everyone knew he was gay but he never came out until he showed up at the ten-year reunion with his partner.” He waited a beat before adding, “Who happened to be in the military. I always wondered if he ever ran into you. Bastard never said.”

“Well, I did tell him that if anyone found out, it could be bad for both of us,” Eliot said with a slight shrug. “Place he worked for had defense contracts; he had a security clearance, and back then wasn’t nearly as accepting as it is now.”

Geoffrey shook his head. “If that’s ever proof that the world’s a small place, I don’t know what is. You don’t get flak for being with Hardison, though? I don’t know how it is in Portland. I can’t imagine that you three broadcast that you’re a trio, even if it’s accepted there.”

“It’s not a problem,” Eliot assured him. “I’m beginning to wonder if the acceptance pendulum’s swinging back the other way in other places.”

Geoffrey’s mouth twisted downward at that comment. “Yeah, a few people have asked me if Zack dyed his hair because he’s gay.”

“You don’t think he is?”

Geoffrey spread his hands. “If Zack ever got a crush on anyone, I’d be the first to toss confetti. But he’s never paid attention to that, as far as Marie and I could tell. He hated that his teachers would ask him if he had a special Valentine. I hated that they were expecting a six-year-old to _have_ a Valentine.” He looked at Eliot. “Which leads me to my second condition: tell your partners how much you love them. They probably know it already, bro, but it’s nice to hear it said aloud.”

Eliot took a breath. “And what happens when what kills them isn’t something you can fight?”

“When cancer eats them alive you mean?” Geoffrey’s smile was tight. “You tell them you love them again, that they’re still beautiful, and they’re still amazing to you. I don’t regret loving Marie. I never will. And maybe I’ll get lucky in time and find someone new to love, just as deeply as I loved Marie, but in a different way, because she’ll be someone different.” Geoffrey’s smile widened. “Till then, I’ll remember what I had and the lessons I learned, like how much you’ll regret everything you didn’t say.”

“So what’s the last condition?”

“Same as always, Eliot. I reserve the right to veto anything I think is not in line with what I want or think is best for myself or Zack. You don’t get to –”

“– throw my money at a problem with the expectation it will fix everything,” Eliot finished for him. “You wouldn’t be my brother if you didn’t disagree with me at least sometimes.”

Geoffrey smiled. “Now that I’ve agreed you’re going to turn my life completely upside down, I’ll return the favor. What’s wrong with Parker and Hardison?”

A half-second away from dialing his lovers and letting them run with the plan to relocate his brother, Eliot froze. “Wrong?” he tried to stall.

Geoffrey favored him with a look. “Wrong,” he said again, and signed it for emphasis.

Eliot glared at him for adding the sign language.

“Look, I’m pretty sure you don’t think they don’t align with what you think is right or else you wouldn’t trust them with doing this huge favor to move me and Zack. But something else is bugging you, and I’m just annoyed enough that I’m not going to let you slide on telling me.” Geoffrey took a breath and added, “So spill.”

 Eliot put down his phone, aware that his brother wouldn’t be swayed once he set his course. He swallowed hard, suddenly at a loss for words.

Geoffrey looked at him expectantly, then, when Eliot still said nothing, cocked his head slightly. “Oh, man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” he asked gently.

Eliot forced himself to remember how to speak. Funny, how he could know seven languages and forget how to form words in any of them. He’d laugh at himself except for the fact that it had just hit him that he was putting his family together, and he didn’t know what to think except, “Remind me to tell Parker not to teach Zack how to dodge security lasers.”

Caught off guard by that, Geoffrey stared at him before laughing softly. “We’ll poke at that later, then, after I’ve seen you with them. Go, do what you need to do. Tell me if you need anything.”


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you want to do with the contents of the house?” Eliot asked his brother later that afternoon. “Do you want to pack and move everything? We can have you moved sooner if you’re willing to let go of some things.”

Geoffrey studied the living room, seeing the framed photographs, remembering the memories he and Marie and Zack had made. “Not really,” he admitted. “Marie and I talked about downsizing when Zack left for college or whatever he wanted to do after high school, as long it wasn’t bumming around the house. Zack!”

At the sound of his name, Zack came running out of his room. “What? Are we moving?”

“Yes, to Portland –”

Zack shouted happily and raised a celebratory fist in the air.

“– but we need to decide what we’re taking and what we’re not. Do you want the Mustang?”

“Not really,” Zack said, shrugging carelessly. “I mean, you’ve been teaching me to drive, and I want my license, but I don’t want that car.”

“What car do you want?” Eliot asked, curious.

“Something that’s not rusted and broken,” Zack said with another roll of his shoulders.

Geoffrey choked on a rueful laugh, and shot his brother a look that said, ‘I should have expected that.’ Eliot hid a smile.

“Oookay, then,” Geoffrey said. “Eliot’s offering us his place to stay while we look for somewhere else to live. That means if we take the furniture, we’ll probably need to put it in storage.”

Zack frowned. “Isn’t that expensive? And didn’t you and Mom talk about buying new stuff before she got sick and the furniture fund had to go to her cancer care?”

Geoffrey nodded. “We did. So, that’s a no, then?”

Zack shrugged. “We’re taking the important stuff, right? Like all the photos and Mom’s keepsake chest? And I know you won’t be happy if we don’t take your cast-iron pan.”

Eliot looked at his nephew, then at his brother, amused.

Geoffrey read the look and shook his head. “Fine, we’re not taking the furniture. Anything else you don’t want to take?”

“The school stuff that’s specific to here,” Zack said reasonably. “I’ll give that to Miguel, because his mom’s gonna do the same thing she did last year, and he’ll be screwed again.”

“You don’t want your old toys or anything like that?”

Zack shook his head. “Nah, I wanted to give them away but Mom said she didn’t want me to until I was older. Said something about maybe me wanting me to give them to my kids.” Zack shuddered. “If I was my kid, I wouldn’t want my dad’s old toys because by then they’d be uncool.”

Geoffrey eyed his son. “Is that why you don’t want the Mustang?”

Zack rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t want some old rusted thing where I’m pretty sure we’ve stripped some screws and put other stuff on wrong.”

Eliot’s lips twitched into an even bigger smile and he forced himself to have a poker face. He was pretty certain his brother wasn’t fooled by his lack of reaction to Zack’s comment, given the glare he got.

“Fine,” Geoffrey said, resigned. “We’re selling everything we can’t pack into a small moving van. Including this house.”

Zack looked shocked at that. “You’re selling the house?”

“I’m not coming back here to live,” Geoffrey declared. “And as Eliot’s pointed out, I can’t guarantee that your grandmother won’t decide to try some shit to get money, so I’m cutting ties. She’s pissed me off enough that she’s out of chances. You’re welcome to plan to come back to see Miguel and any of your other friends, and I’ll make that happen, but we won’t have a house here.”

Zack absorbed that as his father and Eliot both held their breaths to see how he’d react. Eliot even moved a step closer, prepared to intercept a hit.

Much to both men’s relief, Zack sagged his shoulders. “Guess I should’ve expected that.” He looked at Eliot. “Do you think she’d try to live here while we’re gone?”

“She could,” Eliot agreed. “We’ll just have to have someone live here to make sure she doesn’t.”

“But how?” Geoffrey wondered. “Even as hot as the market is around here, not everyone’s prepared to live in a small town.”

Eliot said, “Leave it to me.”

“Uncle Eliot, you aren’t some kind of superspy, are you?” Zack asked.

“No,” Eliot said gently. “But I have friends with connections. My book, that’s better.”

Satisfied with that, Zack then turned to his father. “Can I tell Miguel?”

Geoffrey considered. “As long as he doesn’t tell anyone else until after we’re in Portland. If his mom asks why you’re giving him your school stuff, just say you’re not going to school here.”

“Okay,” Zack said. “Can I do it now?”

“Did you want to meet Parker and Hardison, Eliot’s partners?” Geoffrey asked. “Eliot’s going to videoconference with them and get things rolling.”

Zack shook his head. “I’ll meet them when we get there. I’ll just be upset I can’t hug them. Do you need me for anything else?”

Geoffrey looked at Eliot, who shook his head. Zack took that to be his cue to leave.

Eliot then pulled out his laptop and initiated the videoconference.

After Eliot made the introductions, Parker looked at Geoffrey and asked, “Can I see the scar?”

“What?” Geoffrey said, startled, as his brother said firmly, “No, Parker.”

“Oh,” Parker said, sounding disappointed. “Can I see it when you get here?”

“No, Parker,” Eliot said, cutting off Geoffrey with a look. “Because you’ll want to pet him the way you do me, and that’s not appropriate. I only share you with Hardison.”

Geoffrey looked at his brother with sudden understanding. “Parker, I only date one person at a time, and my wife died six months ago.”

Parker looked at him. “Did you love her a lot?”

“Miss her every day,” Geoffrey said with a nod. “Her mother, not so much.”

“Right,” Parker said briskly, as if suddenly remembering she had a job to do. “We’ve taken the liberty of filing stalking orders on your behalf against Barbara Slayton in both Illinois and Oregon. She’ll be served with them within forty-eight hours. Also, given where Eliot said you’ll be living, there’s only one high school Zack can attend; we’ve gone ahead and enrolled him. Hardison’s sending you the school contact information to your email account. If you want to transfer Zack to another school, you’ll have to move out of the Pearl District or pick a private school.”

Geoffrey stared, surprised. “Doesn’t that stuff require my authorization, like my signature and stuff like that? And how’d you know my email and Zack’s social security number? Oh, wait, Eliot said you’re a hacker.”

Hardison smiled. “If you want me to apologize, I will, but I won’t mean it,” he said with a shrug, “especially since we erred on the side of expediency. Now, if you like, I can have you do it all, but then you’ll be moved in three weeks instead of three days, and Zack will be late in starting school. Which, I know from personal experience, sucks ass, because everybody stares at you for being the kid who just showed up.”

“Then thank you,” Geoffrey said, “and please note, this is only for this circumstance. Otherwise, I’d prefer to have the information to decide and sign.”

“Understood,” Hardison said.

Eliot looked at Hardison. “You had this ready to go before I texted you this morning,” he noted.

Hardison’s smile widened into a grin. “Contingency planning,” he said.

“Damn it, Hardison!”

Hardison spread his hands wide. “They’re your family,” he said, as if that justified everything. “And we love you, Eliot, so they’re our family too.” He smiled widely. “Now, I know you’re two seconds away from being growly bear, so I’ll let you know that I have movers on tap; they’ll be there tomorrow to pack and move everything. I just need to send them a rough estimate of what they’re going to be packing and moving.”

“Two closets worth of clothes, some assorted household goods including kitchen items, and a small heirloom chest with about $10k worth of jewelry,” Eliot said, rattling off the inventory.

Geoffrey blinked. He hadn’t realized that once he’d declared what they were going to take, his brother would have taken inventory of everything. “I can’t decide if that’s accurate or just creepy.”

Eliot looked at him.

“Probably accurate,” Geoffrey said, holding up a hand in peace. “Though I’m creeped out you know exactly how much is in Marie’s jewelry chest, given I’ve never shown it to you.”

Eliot wasn’t about to apologize for knowing how much his brother had. “You asked me to protect you and Zack.”

“Which means you case the house like you’re going to steal it?” Geoffrey demanded, offended. “And when did you manage to do that? When I was asleep?”

“Why not?” Parker asked. “I would.” When Geoffrey stared at her in shock, she hurriedly added, “Because Eliot can’t protect what he doesn’t know you have, Geoffrey.”

“Oh,” Geoffrey said, his irritation fading at that explanation.

“What do you want to do with the stuff you aren’t taking?” Hardison asked, typing as he spoke.

“Sell it, including the house and a half-assembled 1978 Mustang King Cobra, all parts included,” Geoffrey said.

Eliot looked at his brother. “Did you want to keep your car? Portland’s got a decent transit system, and if you need a vehicle, I have a truck and a car.”

“Only thing holding that piece of crap together is duct tape and my refusal to pay for repairs I can do myself,” Geoffrey said. “Had money set aside for buying a new one before Halloween; wanted to get through my heart surgery first.”

“So why did you keep it?” Parker wondered.

“Because it was paid for and it got me and Zack where we needed to go,” Geoffrey said honestly.

“Practicality,” Hardison agreed. “Nice to see that the trait is shared between you and Eliot. So, what kind of crap, I mean, car…oh, man, you have a 1982 Toyota Corolla and it’s still running?”

“Eliot did football,” Geoffrey replied, “I did auto shop. Kept our father from bitching about how I wasn’t playing his favorite sport because I could fix the truck.”

Hardison nodded understanding as he continued to type and check screens. “All right, looks like…representatives from the vehicle auction house will be contacting you shortly, and we have the house listed as for sale by owner. Eliot, I assume you’ll want you three out of there as soon as the movers leave or thereafter, so you’ll need a house sitter, preferably someone who can deal with a potentially upset Barbara, correct?”

Eliot nodded.

“You know someone?” Geoffrey asked, still stunned at how quickly Eliot, Hardison, and Parker were making things happen.

“Oh, Geoffrey, I know all sorts of things,” Hardison drawled, grinning. “Give me a computer and I can make magic happen. Eliot, sending you the list of people who’ll show up at the door unless you think otherwise. They’re all from a national house-sitting service, bonded, and willing to stage the house for sale and deal with a pushy ex-in-law.”

Eliot looked at the side of the screen. He scrolled through the information faster than Geoffrey could, pausing only to veto one individual, before turning the final list over to his brother to peruse.

Geoffrey took one glance and decided to defer to Eliot’s expertise. “You know who’d be better,” he said.

Eliot nodded and went through the list again before telling Hardison, “See if you can get these any of these three –” he sent the names through the video chat window “– and let them know what they might be up against.”

“Got it,” Hardison confirmed. “Sending the email requests now, and if you don’t hear from them in the hour, let me know. Either way, someone will be there tomorrow to pick up the keys and start living in the house while it’s on the market.”

“Anything else we need to do?” Parker asked.

Eliot looked at his brother. “Do you want a doctor to check you out once you’re in Portland? We have a private one on retainer; she’s the only doctor Parker will let touch her.”

“She’s good,” Hardison put in. “Name’s Nicole White. She’s Board certified MD, only sees private patients, has privileges at OHSU. Yells at Eliot for –” Eliot glared at Hardison, not wanting him to disclose that he had an accelerated healing factor thanks to some government experiments involving an alien portal device, and the hacker hastily amended, “– not taking care of himself more.”

“And you for too much soda,” Eliot shot back.

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be perfect now,” Hardison drawled.

Geoffrey considered. “Probably wouldn’t hurt. I’m supposed to go back next week for a follow-up with the cardiologist here.”

“Dr. White will have recommendations if you ask her,” Hardison continued. “I’ll set that up. How well does Zack fly?”

“He hasn’t been on a plane since he was nine,” Geoffrey said. “Marie and I were afraid of what could happen if he had a meltdown or an upset with all those people aboard.”

Hardison’s hands paused on his keyboard and he looked at Parker.

“Private plane,” she suggested decisively. “The bigger jets make me want to kill somebody.”

“I thought we’d just drive there,” Geoffrey said, glancing at his brother, who shook his head.

“Same reason you don’t want Zack on a standard jet. Too little space and too much time for him to contemplate how many ways he’s not happy. Last thing we need is for someone to pull us off a plane for one of Zack’s outbursts.”

“Won’t a private plane have less tolerance for that?” Geoffrey asked, concerned.

Eliot shook his head. “Not if we give them advance notice they might be dealing with a special needs child. Less hassle with a private plane; less time dealing with TSA, and we won’t have to deal with as many people on board, either.”

Parker asked, “What happens to Zack if he gets upset?”

“Yells, screams, rages, hits other things and people, completely forgets that he has been through therapy, knows how to channel that rage, and can do it. Sometimes he just gets uncontrollably weepy and then refuses to move from wherever he’s melted down at,” Geoffrey said with a resigned sigh. “He’s gotten better, but if he gets overloaded, he’s more likely to go off.”

“You can’t put him on a plane full of regular people,” Parker said insistently. “He’ll explode with all that noise and…people.”

“Yeah, but the expense –”

“Won’t be yours to pay,” Eliot cut his brother off, meeting Parker’s eyes, who looked relieved that he’d made that statement.

“Then let’s go that route. Damn it, Eliot, I’m never going to get out of your debt.”

“I’m not counting,” Eliot said calmly. “You shouldn’t be either.”

Geoffrey’s head was spinning. “So, let me get this straight. It’s Monday now. You’re saying that by tomorrow evening, everything Zack and I own will either be sold or packed and on a truck to Portland?”

“Better start packing the suitcases then,” Hardison said with a nod. “We’ll celebrate your arrival when you two are ready to see us in person.”

 “Got any questions for them?” Eliot asked, looking at his brother.

“Not that I can think of,” Geoffrey said, shaking his head.

“Be safe,” Hardison told Eliot. “Love you.”

Parker blew him a kiss, then said firmly, “That wasn’t for you, Geoffrey.”

Geoffrey chuckled. “Understood.”

Assured by that, Eliot disconnected the call before turning to Geoffrey. “Need help packing?”

“In a bit; Zack will get distracted and need the most help. Dinner first, though. Pizza okay with you?”

Eliot nodded, and followed Geoffrey into the kitchen. Geoffrey immediately turned on the oven and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge, including a plastic-wrapped dough Eliot suspected he’d made from scratch. Geoffrey then dusted part of the counter with flour, located a rolling pin, and handed the rolling pin and dough to Eliot.

“So now that we have moving and selling my stuff set up, want to talk about this job I’ll be doing for you?” Geoffrey asked, pulling out a cutting board to chop two bell peppers, an onion, and a package of mushrooms.

 “When Hardison bought the building, which includes the pub, he made me part owner,” Eliot explained as he rolled out the pizza dough. “He knew I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get involved. At the time, I thought he was apologizing for some of the stuff that had happened.”

“Was he?” Geoffrey asked as he chopped the vegetables. It didn’t escape Eliot’s notice that his brother was moving more slowly that he normally would, as if he was conscious of the way any motion he made might pull at the stitches in his chest.

Eliot shrugged slightly. “He’ll never admit it. He still does the financials, makes sure we keep that part of our business all legal, so if you don’t have the offer letter and the employment paperwork by the time we’re done with dinner, you’ll have it by morning. You can decide how much of that you want to handle, since you’ll be our new operations manager, responsible for the food and beverage planning and everything else.”

“What will you be doing?”

Eliot smiled wryly. “What I always do – make sure Hardison doesn’t mess with the brewing too much. His ideas for flavors don’t always work out.”

“But you’ve been juggling both running this and your other work,” Geoffrey surmised.

“Can’t do both well, and the pub suffers,” Eliot said bluntly. “We’ve had issues with staff turnover and unhappy customers. Hardison takes it personally; so do I.”

“That means I’m coming into an existing business, brought in to whip the pub into shape, and I’ll have to prove I didn’t just get it because I’m your brother,” Geoffrey summarized.

Eliot nodded.

Geoffrey whistled softly. “And what happens if I decide, say, in six months, I want to do something else?”

Eliot shrugged as he moved the pizza dough onto a pan, then started making a quick sauce. “So do it. Walk away any time.”

Geoffrey absorbed that as he moved the cut vegetables off the board into a small bowl and began dicing cooked ham. “That has the ring of something someone’s said to you often.”

Eliot half-smiled, remembering how rocky it had been with Nate in the beginning, and nodded. “It worked.”

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time the packing of the items they were taking with them – and Zack’s inevitable meltdown – was over. In unspoken agreement, Geoffrey and Eliot headed out to the garage so they could speak freely and not disturb a now sleeping Zack.

Eliot leaned against the wall of the garage as Geoffrey made a slow circuit of the Mustang. Eliot knew his brother was seeing more than the half-finished car; he was flipping through a scrapbook of memories.

As if hearing his brother’s thoughts, Geoffrey stopped when he completed his circuit and said, “Marie told me I couldn’t use this as a bribe to get you to come home and stop wandering.”

Eliot chuckled. “Wondered if you did, given Zack wasn’t old enough to know the difference between a wrench and a hammer when you bought it.”

Geoffrey studied him a moment. “Would it have worked if I’d asked?”

“Then?” Eliot shook his head, remembering where he’d been when Zack was six years old. “No.”

“Sure you don’t want to buy it?”

Eliot shook his head. “Fixing cars was always your hobby more than mine. Besides, you’ll get a better deal from the auction house than paying to have it shipped to Portland.”

“Probably true. You said you had two vehicles?” Geoffrey asked.

“Dodge Challenger and a Chevy Silverado. Usually use the truck if I need to go anywhere; nobody looks twice at a pickup.”

“Isn’t that expensive to keep two vehicles in the city?”

“My condo has a space in the underground garage, so I park the truck there. As for my other car, Parker decided it was a shame to have it parked in a garage she didn’t own, so she moved it to her warehouse one night,” Eliot said, trying to sound annoyed. He’d actually been relieved to not have to worry about it being in a garage halfway across the city; Parker’s warehouse was much more secure.

Geoffrey looked at him. “She stole it?”

“She said she figured I was never going to ask her to store it so she just made it happen,” Eliot said. “And if I didn’t want her to have access to it, I’d have to put it somewhere she couldn’t get to, which is not a very long list. I’m just grateful she stole my spare keys instead of hotwiring it.”

Geoffrey said nothing for a long moment, long enough for Eliot to wonder if his brother had finally digested everything he’d heard and was freaking out over it. “Time was, someone touching your car would’ve made you absolutely furious,” Geoffrey noted quietly. “Especially since I know you’ve wanted a Challenger since, well, forever.” He paused. “From what I saw earlier, Hardison’s one of the best hackers out there, isn’t he? Why isn’t he working for, I dunno, some big corporation doing cybersecurity?”

“Because he did and got bored,” Eliot said with a shrug. “And he worked for one of the alphabet agencies and got bored by that too.”

Geoffrey whistled softly. “I’m okay with software programs and I know enough to keep malware and spyware off our home computers, but the way he got my and Zack’s info and everything else set up, he acted like it was as easy as I’d make enough pie for a restaurant that seats 150 and still have enough ingredients and money left over to do it again the next night. Aren’t you afraid he’d get so angry at you that he’d mess with your information?”

Eliot half-smiled at that. “No. I’d have to betray him and hurt Parker, and –”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Geoffrey finished. “You both love her that much, huh?”

Eliot swallowed hard past a sudden lump in his throat and nodded. He could see his brother was not yet done, and waited.

“How good is Parker?”

“One of the best thieves in the world,” Eliot confirmed. “Among other things, she’s stolen the Hope Diamond and put it back because she was bored. She also tends to just appear at will in a room; I’m not sure how she does that.” Eliot had his suspicions, but every time he tried to confirm his theory, Parker avoided or defeated his effort. “I’ve seen her bypass or defeat systems the security firms claim to be undefeatable.”

“And you?” Geoffrey asked softly. “What makes you valuable to them in this enterprise?”

Eliot looked at his brother, aware this was the last lie he’d been hiding. “I’m a retrieval specialist, and I hit people who need it. Anything or anyone you want, I can get it, and I’ll protect my people from our enemies.”

“Hence the private doctor,” Geoffrey surmised. “Anyone else would start asking questions.”

Eliot nodded.

Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed. “Just how far would you go to protect the people you consider yours?”

“Don’t ask me questions like that when you already know the answer,” Eliot replied warningly. “You know enough to make an educated guess.”

Closing his eyes briefly, Geoffrey nodded, as if that confirmed something in his mind. “Fair enough. You mentioned that Parker and Hardison were together longer. Is Hardison planning on proposing to her?”

Eliot swallowed hard. “He hasn’t said.”

Geoffrey studied Eliot a moment. “And if he never did, would you, to either of them?”

Eliot stared at his brother, words sticking in his throat.

“Because from where I’m standing,” Geoffrey said, “it looks like two people who don’t know me and my son just broke several laws to make sure he and I will be safe from my mother-in-law, just because you’re my brother. It sounded like they even jumped the gun a bit – did I hear that right?”

Eliot nodded, and cleared his throat. “Hardison wasn’t supposed to go looking.”

“But they did, because they got worried.”

Eliot nodded again.

Geoffrey stepped closer and patted his shoulder. “So if you know they’ll hunt down whatever sons of bitches ever killed you, and somehow find the time to make sure me and Zack are safe, why didn’t you tell them you loved them on the videocall? I heard Hardison say he loved you; Parker blew you a kiss, so it’s clear to me they have no problem verbalizing it.”

“It’s not that simple,” Eliot snapped.

“Sure it is. Three simple words.”

“That could be used against me.” The words slipped out before Eliot could take them back, and he watched them land like a boulder dropped in a small pond. Too late, he knew he didn’t mean them. Once upon a time, he had, but not now, not when he had something as solid as what he had with Parker and Hardison.

Geoffrey studied him a long, wordless moment. “Look, I know it’s late and we’re both tired,” he began. “But that excuse sounds like you have a hell of a story behind it, and I don’t think your partners are idiot enough to buy it, whatever it is. Because while I don’t know the half it, the part I do know was a long enough time ago that you should’ve let it go by now. Loving Marie taught me that much.”

With that, Geoffrey left Eliot standing in the garage, wondering where his reflexive answer had come from and why. He’d thought he was ready; thought he’d had it clear in his head what he wanted, given his earlier conversations with his brother. Now he wasn’t sure. Would it be enough to go on as they had been, given that it had been working and neither Parker nor Hardison had made any mention of anything more permanent? Was Eliot jumping the gun, seeing patterns and probabilities where only hope existed? Was the status quo even viable, long-term?

 _Later,_ Eliot told himself. _You can dissect a strategy later. Focus on getting Geoffrey and Zack packed up and settled in first._ Conveniently, he forgot that part of the reason he’d come to visit his brother and his nephew was to have the distance and relative privacy to think about what he wanted from Parker and Hardison.


	8. Chapter 8

Eliot was exhausted by the time their flight landed in Portland. Even expecting that Zack would be a handful hadn’t prepared him for the emotional rollercoaster his nephew put him and Geoffrey through. He was grateful to see that Parker was waiting for them when they reached the baggage claim area. Expecting that his brother wouldn’t want to spend the money on buying dinner, Eliot had also arranged for a delivery of groceries, which Hardison had confirmed he’d put away in their proper locations.

Parker assessed their little group with a sweeping glance before turning to Eliot. She was dressed like a chauffeur from a movie, complete with hat. Eliot knew instantly it was her way of coping with having to deal with new people. Pride and love swept through him at the sight, and he suddenly needed to kiss her as if they’d been apart for months. Eliot indulged himself, kissing her hello in a rare display of public affection.

Parker kissed him back. “Hi,” she said, looking very satisfied and amused, and Eliot surmised she must’ve made a bet with Hardison as to whether he’d kiss her in greeting.

Irked a bit by that, Eliot stepped back from the embrace.

Parker took that to be her cue to turn to Geoffrey and Zack.

“Thanks for picking us up, Parker,” Geoffrey said. “This is my son, Zack.”

Zack stuck out a hand to shake.

“I don’t shake hands,” she told him, then, as if remembering something someone told her, added a little more gently, “But when I know you better, I might accept a hug. But you have to ask first.”

“Oh, okay,” Zack said, a little surprised.

“Car’s this way.” Parker gestured to her left and started walking.

“Zack, your backpack!” Geoffrey reminded him, handing it over before his son could get too far.

Focused on Parker, the teenager took the backpack absently, leaving his father and his uncle to deal with his suitcase. At Geoffrey’s words, Parker stopped and waited.

“Is your first name Parker or is it your last name?” Zack asked as he caught up to her.

“It’s my name,” Parker said flatly.

“But how do you fill out forms that ask you for your last name?” Zack wondered.

“I don’t,” Parker replied, walking away, forcing Zack to follow.

Geoffrey hung back and glanced at Eliot. “She can handle him?” Geoffrey asked as he shifted his rolling suitcase to his other hand.

“Better than we can right now,” Eliot said honestly, stacking Zack’s suitcase atop the extra-large rolling suitcase Geoffrey had also packed. Eliot then slipped his duffel bag to his back, leaving one hand free. “He’s sick of us.”

Geoffrey acknowledged that with a rueful nod before looking at his brother’s load. “You got that okay?” he asked, concerned.

Eliot waved off the concern as he checked to make sure they had everything they’d brought with them. Once done with that task, he moved forward, making sure that Geoffrey was a step ahead of him so he didn’t outpace his brother.

“How come you don’t shake hands?” Zack was asking Parker as they caught up to them.

“Because I don’t.”

“But why not? Everyone shakes hands.”

“I’m not and I don’t want to and you can’t make me because you want to pick a fight about something,” Parker said, rolling her eyes.

That derailed Zack. “In other words, I’m being a brat,” he interpreted.

Parker stopped and turned around, causing Zack to bump into her. “I didn’t say that,” she said, offended. “And you only are as bratty as you think will be effective to get what you want.”

“And if I want to go home?”

“And deal with your grandmother?” Parker asked seriously. “By yourself, with nowhere to live?”

Zack eyed her, unsure. “What do you mean by myself?”

“Your dad accepted a job here. The cars are sold and the house will soon be,” Parker ticked off the list. “Besides, how are you going to get back?” She crossed her arms and looked at Zack. “That what you want?”

“No,” Zack replied sullenly. “You’re rude and I want to sleep.”

Parker nodded, satisfied by that answer. “Then stop arguing and follow me.” She led the way to a late-model sedan of the type used by limousine companies.

Glancing at the stickers on the license plate, Eliot guessed she’d stolen it from an actual limousine company. Not wanting to bring attention to that fact, he busied himself with loading the trunk with their luggage while Zack and Geoffrey got into the car.

It didn’t take them long to get to Eliot’s condo. After unloading the trunk with Parker’s help, he turned to Parker, while his brother and his nephew stood a respectful distance away. “I’ll walk over in a bit.”

She smiled at that. “No, you’re going to crash on the couch in your place,” she said firmly. “I’ll tell Hardison to leave you alone until morning. And yes, I’m going to get the car back before someone notices, much as I don’t think they deserve to get it back.” She made a moue of distaste. “Someone should tell them their security’s candy.”

“You could leave a note.”

Parker shrugged carelessly. “Maybe. Get some sleep before you come over; you’re too tired.”

Acknowledging that assessment with a rueful nod, Eliot sighed. Parker noticed everything; if he was looking tired, then it was definitely time he got rest. Parker got back into the car and pulled away with a squeal of tires.

At this time of night, the building was on lockdown, requiring that Eliot swipe his key card before entering the lobby.

A uniformed security guard sat at the lobby’s reception desk, watching the security feeds. “Welcome back, Mr. Spencer,” he greeted. “And welcome to Tower View, Mr. Larsen and Mr. Larsen.”

“Thanks, Juan,” Eliot said with a smile.

“He knew our names!” Zack exclaimed.

“Security requirement – if you’re going to have long-term guests, you have to submit their names to the front desk security,” Eliot explained.

“That’s so cool,” Zack said.

Geoffrey looked at Eliot. “You sound like you aren’t too thrilled with that.”

“I’m not,” Eliot said honestly as they stepped into the elevator. “But it does cut down on random salespeople claiming they have business here in the building.” He swiped the keycard again to activate the elevator, then passed it to Geoffrey.

“You won’t need this tomorrow?”

Eliot shook his head. “Hardison has a copy; I’ll just get it from him.”

“Figured you’d have the penthouse,” Geoffrey joked when he saw that his brother hit the button for the eleventh floor of the nineteen-story building.

“Too expensive,” Eliot told him. “Penthouse was nearly $3 million.” He didn’t add that he hadn’t picked out the condo; Nate and Hardison had, back when they’d first relocated to Portland. Eliot wouldn’t have chosen this particular unit for himself – he’d have been happy with a much smaller, one-bedroom, one-bathroom – but he’d grown to appreciate that it had two bathrooms, especially on the nights he, Hardison, and Parker had stayed in it.

Zack’s eyes widened at that number. “$3 million? Are you rich, Uncle Eliot?”

Eliot shrugged. “Depends on what you’re counting.” He led the way to his door and unlocked it, then stepped inside so he could be sure of what awaited them on the inside.

Hardison had left the light on over the breakfast bar. A Post-It note in Hardison’s distinctive scrawl indicated he’d also stocked toilet paper and towels in the guest bathroom and changed the sheets on both beds.

“Zack, follow me,” Eliot told his nephew, and directed him to the guest bedroom. Zack promptly crashed onto the bed, muttering, “Shut the door.”

Half-smiling at that sight, Eliot then turned to his brother, who apparently had gotten waylaid by the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, and had pushed open the curtains to see the view of the city below.

“This is an amazing view,” Geoffrey noted. He looked at Eliot. “Do you always keep the curtains closed?”

Eliot nodded.

“Man, I’d leave it open all – right, you’re paranoid, I’m not,” Geoffrey said, derailing his own comment.

“Hungry?” Eliot asked.

Geoffrey shook his head. “I’m going to follow my son’s example, and I can take the couch.”

Eliot just looked at him. There was no way Eliot was going to let his brother sleep on the couch when every instinct Eliot had was clamoring to be the one in the living room, standing watch.

“Fine, then. Don’t bitch when I come stumbling out looking for coffee,” Geoffrey acquiesced.

Eliot chuckled at that, but his smile faded as soon as his brother’s back was turned. After making sure the locks on the doors were engaged, Eliot sat down on the couch, intending to be on guard. Exhaustion hit him harder than he’d anticipated. The next thing he knew, noise from the kitchen woke him. From the sound, Eliot figured his brother was setting up the coffeemaker.

“Sorry, bro,” Geoffrey apologized when Eliot looked over the couch. “Was trying to be quiet since you weren’t up at the crack of dawn like you usually are.”

Eliot waved off the apology and glanced at his watch. It was now a bit after eight AM, but they hadn’t gotten into the condo until nearly one in the morning.

“Zack’s still asleep,” Geoffrey told him. “Hardison texted me and said Dr. White is willing to meet us here at 9:30 or at the pub. I, uh, don’t feel much up to doing a lot of walking. I told him here was fine. You want any coffee before you shower?”

Eliot shook his head. “I’ll get it after. Find everything okay?”

Geoffrey nodded. “Yeah. This is like, my dream home kitchen here.” He gestured to the high-end appliances, ample counter space, and perfectly triangulated sink, oven, and fridge.

Eliot flashed him a grin. “It’s my favorite part of this place. Be back in a bit. Help yourself; I had Hardison stock the fridge and pantry.”

“Was planning on making pancakes.”

“Feeling that much better?” Eliot asked. He studied his brother; Geoffrey looked better than he did a few days prior, but he did look a bit winded. No doubt the trip and the whirlwind packing had exhausted him.

“Not really but I figured I could make Zack do the work,” the other man said with a slight shrug. “Your bed’s more comfortable than I was expecting. Figured you’d have something firmer.”

Eliot chuckled dryly, remembering there had been a few occasions when his brother had found him sleeping on the floor rather than on the guest bed. “Hardison convinced me to go bed shopping. Didn’t even know there was a difference between mattresses.”

Geoffrey grinned. “Yeah, Marie made me do the same thing after our honeymoon. Said she was not going to sleep in some random bed I’d picked up from God knows where. I said I knew perfectly well where I got it from; she just was objecting to who that was.”

Eliot raised an eyebrow and looked inquiringly at his brother, who waved off the question.

“Truth be told, it was both, but I told her Rosa was just a friend. Mind you, I figured Rosa was hoping to be more, but I wasn’t going to sleep with someone I worked with.”

Eliot shook his head, amused, and left the kitchen.

After taking a shower in the master bathroom and changing into a clean t-shirt and jeans, Eliot took advantage of his relative privacy to call Parker on video, since they’d both found it to be easier to communicate when they could see each other. “Anything going on?” he asked.

“You look better,” Parker declared. “But no, nothing yet. Hardison’s asleep.”

“How long was he up?” Eliot asked, concerned.

“Crashed about two hours after I came back, muttering about nothing I understood,” Parker said, shrugging. “Computer game stuff probably. I set his alarm to wake him after lunch. You coming by before then?”

“Depends on how Geoffrey and Zack are doing,” Eliot replied.

Parker nodded as if she’d expected that answer. “We’ll see you whenever you get here, then,” she said, and disconnected the call.

Eliot drew in a deep breath and allowed himself, just for a second, to enjoy his lover’s confidence in him, something he rarely allowed others to see. Then he focused on the day’s task: ensuring that his brother and his nephew were settled in. Feeling a bit more centered, he moved toward the kitchen, where he could hear his brother and his nephew discussing the precise time to flip a pancake.

Mouth twitching into a smile, he found Zack at the stove, making pancakes. “How many do you want, Uncle Eliot?” Zack asked.

Eliot looked at the stack of perfectly formed pancakes Zack had already made and the glass bowl nearly devoid of batter. “Three’s fine,” he told Zack.

“That’s what Dad said,” Zack said happily, and turned off the stove.

As they ate, Geoffrey asked, “Did I hear right that the house is sold already?”

“Not what Parker said, but,” Eliot shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it will soon be. One of the companies we helped a while back buys homes for veterans. House like yours would be perfect for someone wanting someplace quieter but still accessible to Chicago.”

Geoffrey whistled softly. “And to think it took weeks to buy that place initially,” he said. “Between the inspection and the bank not wanting to believe our credit was good…”

“You gonna buy a house, Uncle Eliot?” Zack asked.

“Already did,” Eliot told him. “You’re in it.”

“This isn’t a house, it’s a fancy apartment,” Zack argued.

“Well, this fancy apartment’s where you’re going to live,” Geoffrey countered, offended on his brother’s behalf. “Least until we figure out if we like this neighborhood or not.”

“Oh,” Zack said sheepishly. He ate part of a pancake before asking, “How rich are you, Uncle Eliot? You didn’t answer me last night.”

“Enough,” Eliot said firmly, unwilling to get into details with his nephew. “And your dad and I agreed a long time ago that I could give you money, but he got to decide how it got spent.”

“Oh,” Zack said, disappointed. “So nothing’s changed. The rules here are the same as they always were.”

“What, did you think they’d be different in Eliot’s house?” Geoffrey asked.

Zack shrugged restlessly. “No, but I had to check.”

Eliot smothered a grin he knew his brother wouldn’t appreciate. “Did you two want to check out the neighborhood?”

Geoffrey shook his head. “Yesterday wore me out. If you want to take Zack after breakfast, sure. Zack – until I know this area, don’t wander off without me. I know you’re fifteen and don’t need to hold my hand anymore, but this is a bigger city than Stone Hollow. Not everyone is going to appreciate you for you.”

Zack looked at Eliot. “But if you live here, it has to be okay.”

“It’s a pretty walkable neighborhood,” Eliot agreed, “but I also don’t give money to any panhandlers.”

“Like when we go visit Chicago,” Zack interpreted, sitting back in his chair. “Don’t smile, don’t make eye contact, keep a firm grip on your bag or your wallet, keep moving with confidence, and for God’s sake, don’t have a meltdown in the street ‘cause it’ll wind up on YouTube.” His voice held the cadence of an oft-repeated mantra.

Geoffrey stared at his son. “Did your mom tell you that?”

Zack nodded. “Every time we’d go visit that one pediatric doctor in the city who’d take our insurance before he decided that I wasn’t normal enough.”

Geoffrey rubbed his forehead. “No wonder you two acted like I was missing a conversation.” He waved off Eliot’s look of inquiry. “Anyway, sounds like that’s good enough advice for here too, unless Eliot has something to add.”

Eliot shook his head.

By the time they finished eating and cleaning up breakfast, it was nearly time for Dr. White to show up. Eliot went downstairs to meet her.

Dr. Nicole White was a black woman of average height and build. Eliot had met her on a classified DOD project back when he’d still been serving in the Army, and been struck by her composure and presentation. Just like the first time he’d met her, Nicole’s dreadlocks were neatly tucked into a bun at the base of her head, revealing the pearl studs she’d chosen to wear. Her makeup was expertly applied, accentuating her wide oval face, and in keeping with military standards. She radiated competence and confidence. She’d been a newly minted doctor and Marine officer when Eliot had first met her; he’d been a still idealistic, though battle-hardened, SpecOps soldier, chosen for a special medical procedure they’d both been told would improve soldier health. They’d met again several years later, both no longer as naïve, when she’d volunteered for Doctors without Borders and he’d been a soldier for hire, in a town that had seen too much civil war. Eliot had looked her up when Nate had insisted they’d need a doctor who wouldn’t ask too many questions, and been pleased to see that she’d moved to Portland some years prior to the Leverage crew’s arrival in the city.  

Today, Nicole wore a blue scrub top decorated with cartoon llamas, black denim jeans, and black sneakers. She carried a battered, designer-name, leather doctor’s bag, which Eliot knew contained everything she’d need for triaging an injury in urban environment. As he stepped off the elevator, he heard her easy banter with the lobby security guard as they discussed baseball.

Hearing the elevator ping, Nicole broke off her conversation with the guard and went to meet him halfway.

“I know I’m not here for you,” she greeted, “but you’re looking a little worn. You know you need to sleep more.”

“Been a rough couple of days,” he allowed, and led the way to the elevator. He waited until the elevator doors shut before speaking again. “My brother had surgery and we had to move him unexpectedly.”

“I see,” Nicole said. “Hardison briefed me on the surgery and Geoffrey’s medical history. You have anything to add?”

Eliot shook his head, confident she’d see his brother’s condition soon enough.

Entering the condo, Eliot saw that Zack had taken a position on the L-shaped sectional couch next to his father. He was cuddled close, almost as if he was afraid.

Nicole immediately took charge of the situation, allowing Eliot to step back and take a seat on the shorter section of the couch. “I’m Dr. Nicole White,” she introduced herself. “You must be Geoffrey and Zack. You can call me Dr. White or Nicole; I’ll answer to either. I have your medical records already, so I already know your history.”

Zack didn’t want to let go of his father, forcing him to shake hands without standing. “Zack, you’re going to have to let go of me,” Geoffrey said firmly.

“No.”

“Dr. White needs to examine me; you can sit on the couch right here beside me or go sit by your uncle, but you can’t cling to me like a limpet,” Geoffrey said.

“But I’m your favorite limpet!” Zack argued, tightening his grip.

“Zackary,” Geoffrey said warningly.

Zack sighed and moved over to sit by Eliot.

“Is it okay if he and Eliot watch while you do your exam?” Geoffrey asked belatedly. “If you’d rather make it private, we can go to the bedroom, but –”

Nicole smiled as she set down her bag and began gathering items from it to take a basic exam. “No, it’s okay. A lot of patients I see can’t handle being in a traditional medical office; I’m used to having an audience as long as you’re okay with that information being shared.”

“Zack made me show him the scar this morning,” Geoffrey noted dryly. “And as he keeps reminding me, he’s not a little boy anymore; he’s fifteen.”

Nicole smiled at that. “Well, we’ll start with checking your temperature and blood pressure, and see if there’s anything I can do from here. I’ll set you up with cardiologist friend; he’s one of the best in the city and he will do your follow-up care. This is just to make sure you aren’t having any issues. Before we get started, I’d like to confirm a few things, just to make sure I’m dealing with you and not someone else. Sound good to you?”

Geoffrey nodded.

“Please confirm the spelling of your first name?”

“G-e-o-f-f-r-e-y,” Geoffrey said. “And please don’t call me Geoff. I hate it.”

“Blood type?”

“O positive,” Geoffrey said.

“And last one, date of birth.”

“August 21, 1971,” he said easily.

“Monday is your birthday,” Zack announced. “And the Tuesday after that I start school.”

“You excited?” Nicole asked casually as she took a moment to update the tablet she was using to record Geoffrey’s medical chart.

“The Murray kids won’t be there to tease me about my hair,” Zack said happily. “And I was looking out the window earlier and I saw someone walking down the street with even bluer hair than me.”

Geoffrey and Eliot shared a smile at Zack’s enthusiasm.

“All right, Zack, I’m going to be focusing on your dad for a bit,” Nicole announced. “Please hold your questions until I’m done, okay?

“Okay,” Zack agreed readily.

Geoffrey looked at her gratefully; she just smiled.

“Geoffrey, are you feeling any pain or soreness?” Nicole asked as she began her examination. She was thorough; in addition to taking his temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and oxygenation statistics and confirming his current medications, she also checked the healing on the scar and made sure all of his extremities were not feeling unusual temperatures. She explained what she was doing before she did it, making sure Geoffrey was comfortable before proceeding.

Eliot felt, more than saw, Zack relax as Nicole worked, and surmised that her manner was the cause.

“All right, you’re looking good,” Nicole said when she was done. “I’ll send this over to Dr. Godley; his office should call you to confirm the appointment for Friday later this afternoon. I recommend you take it easy another three days before going to work, unless you have other concerns.” She turned to Zack. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“My dad’s gonna be okay?”

“Yes, he will. He just has to finish healing.”

“Okay. Can you be my doctor?”

Nicole smiled. “Yes, if that’s okay with your dad.”

“Yes,” Geoffrey said before Zack could do more than open his mouth to ask. “Were you prepared to examine him today?”

“Was about to ask,” Nicole said honestly. “Zack, it’s your turn. Anything you want me to check out?”

“My heart,” Zack said, looking eager.

Eliot and Geoffrey exchanged looks. “I should’ve expected that,” Geoffrey said quietly as Nicole moved over to tend to her new patient.

“Not a bad idea, either way,” Eliot replied. “Even if he didn’t inherit anything from you or Marie.”

“How’d you avoid this problem?” Geoffrey asked. “I look back and I think Mom had heart problems but they didn’t want to worry us by telling us.”

“Luck of the draw,” Eliot said with a shrug.

Geoffrey grunted agreement. “Yeah, well, not like we can go back and ask since they’re both dead now.”

Eliot nodded.

Thirty minutes later, Nicole was finished with her exam, having patiently answered all of Zack’s numerous questions.

“How much do I owe you?” Geoffrey asked.

“Nothing,” Nicole told him. “Hardison’s already paid me, and your next one will be billed to your insurance unless you want to do what your brother does and put me on retainer. I’ll send you a link to a summary of today’s visit with payment information for future visits and the referral information Hardison asked me to supply to you for both you and Zack.”

“I’ll be working in the brewpub as its operations manager,” Geoffrey said.

“Wonderful,” Nicole said. “Then your insurance will handle payment just fine, no copays.”

“That’s good to know. Thanks for seeing us,” Geoffrey said.

Nicole shook his hand and then Zack’s. “You’re welcome. Good to meet you both.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Eliot volunteered.

In the elevator, Nicole turned to Eliot. “Your brother’s doing really well. You have nothing to worry about.”

Eliot let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thanks, Nicole.”

Nicole smiled. “You’re welcome. You’re due for your annual exam, by the way. I’ve set the appointment for Friday when your brother’s at the cardiologist. You can come see me at my office, since it’s in the same building.”

Eliot made a face. Even if it was someone he trusted, he hated doctors. “Can’t you just come here again?

“No,” Nicole said. “You’re not indestructible, Eliot, just very hard to kill. I’d like to make sure you keep it that way, and I need my lab equipment to do it. At the very least, you owe me a chest X-ray and an MRI. If Parker was bruised and hurting enough to come see me, you were undoubtedly much, much worse, because you always are. I’d like to make sure you healed from that, even if you don’t ever tell me what it was that you did to get that way.”

Eliot sighed. “Fine. I’ll see you on Friday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, muse willing, will be posted next weekend.


	9. Chapter 9

“So, the doc says I can start working in a week as long as I take it easily, but he’d prefer two weeks,” Geoffrey announced to his brother after leaving the cardiologist’s office two days later. “How did your appointment go?”

Eliot shrugged. Nicole had pronounced him well, though she had warned him he needed to be more careful about the kinds of hits he took, since it looked as though he’d cracked a rib at some recent point in the past. “All right. Nicole worries.”

“I like her,” Geoffrey said. “Better to have a doc who cares than one who just sees you as a number on a chart.”

Eliot nodded agreement.

“I didn’t realize she had a real office,” Geoffrey noted. “So Zack and I could come here instead of her coming to us?”

“If you wanted. She has a full lab here. I don’t come here unless she needs me to do lab tests.”

“It doesn’t cost more?”

“More than your standard doctor’s fee but it’s the same whether she comes to you or you come here.”

“Huh. I can see where if I’m sick with flu, I don’t want to have to drag myself to a doctor,” Geoffrey mused. “And especially after waiting in this cardiologist’s office, I think I could get spoiled by her showing up to see me. That wait took forever. Show up for a 9 AM appointment, and don’t see the doctor until 10:30? Then he’s done in twenty minutes? What the hell?”

Eliot chuckled at that statement.

“So, when do you want me to start working at the pub?” Geoffrey asked, changing subjects.

“When do you want to?” Eliot countered readily. As he’d expected, Nicole had timed his appointment to coincide with Geoffrey’s, so they were both finished at roughly the same time. Zack had elected to stay home.

Geoffrey considered the idea as they crossed the parking lot to Eliot’s truck and then got inside it. As he fastened his seat belt, Geoffrey mused, “Zack’s used to coming home and not having me there until after 7, so I don’t want to change that routine. When Marie was well, she had to get up earlier than me to get to work; I was always the one to make sure he ate breakfast and got to school on time.”

Eliot started up the truck and said nothing as he focused on getting them from the medical office on the east end of the city to his condo.

“Zack and I were looking yesterday at the map and it looks like he could walk to school or take the local bus,” Geoffrey continued, not taking offense at his brother’s silence. “And two weeks would mean he’d be in school, but then he’d have Labor Day off, so…let’s make it the Tuesday after Labor Day? That way he and I can do some exploration of the city by ourselves and you don’t feel obligated to babysit.”

Eliot shot him a look.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you don’t mind, but I do,” Geoffrey said. “You’ve done more than enough already. I know you haven’t been spending a lot of time with Parker and Hardison since we arrived. I don’t think you’ve left to see them, have you? You’ve been sleeping on the couch since we arrived, and that just makes me feel weird, knowing it’s your place.”

“They don’t need me with them every minute,” Eliot felt compelled to point out. “And given how Zack finally had that meltdown we’ve been expecting when we tried to go out to dinner yesterday, I didn’t want to leave you alone.” Eliot grimaced at the memory. Zack hadn’t been able to talk to his best friend because Miguel hadn’t been home and it had served to reinforce just how different things were now.

Geoffrey frowned at the reminder. Zack had been inconsolable for hours, and wouldn’t let go of Eliot. “While I’m glad you were there, his behavior last night was as bad as when he wants to hit things. He gets a free pass for last night, but if he does that sort of thing again, you’re going to have hold firm. He’s going to have to learn how to live on his own, without you or me, and yeah, he’s going to have bad days. Besides, you can’t be using me and Zack as your excuse forever.”

Eliot grimaced at that, abruptly aware that he’d forgotten just how observant his brother could be. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good,” Geoffrey said. “So what’s your plan for the rest of the day? I know you wanted us to have dinner with Hardison and Parker for our official ‘welcome to Portland’ meal.”

“Could pick up Zack, see how he likes the science and art museum. And before you ask, Parker likes to go when it’s closed.”

“Why?”

“It’s Parker,” Eliot replied, accelerating through a stoplight, then realized his brother wasn’t used to that statement. “Among other things, she’s less tempted to lift wallets when nobody’s around.”

Geoffrey mulled over that statement as they worked their way through Portland. Not bothered by the silence, Eliot kept his focus on driving.

“She ever consider not doing that kind of thing?” Geoffrey asked several minutes later.

“She’s been working on it since I met her,” Eliot admitted. “But it’s like asking you to not calculate how much it would cost to seat sixty people at a four-course, prix fixe, holiday meal with mid-range wine pairings for every course.”

“Easter or Christmas?” Geoffrey asked immediately, then stopped as he realized just how quickly both numbers came to his head. “Oh. So she’d have to become someone else entirely.”

Eliot nodded.

“Does she want to be someone else?”

Eliot chuckled dryly. “Only in the context of it being someone who helps stop bad guys and protects her friends.”

“Got it,” Geoffrey said with a nod. He glanced over at Eliot as he maneuvered the truck through a left-hand turn. “So would Hardison go?”

“He would if he wasn’t already committed to volunteering at the food bank,” Eliot said. “Don’t ask him about it if you don’t want to get volunteered or hear why you should contribute.”

“Then be prepared for me to ask. You do any charity work?”

Eliot nodded. “One of the charitable organizations in the city does a monthly outreach program at night, where we go to where the homeless camp and talk to people, see what they need, pass out toiletries, socks, and underwear, and connect them with social services. Hardison also set the pub up so that ten percent of its profits go to Food Lifeline.”

Geoffrey looked at his brother as they pulled into the parking garage underneath the condo building. “I don’t know why I had this weird notion that you three didn’t have lives outside of what you do.”

Eliot swiped his parking card into the gate release mechanism and waited for the gate to lift before pulling forward. He waited until he’d parked in his designated space, turned off the engine, and turned to face his brother. “What, you thought that’s all we did?”

Geoffrey made a face. “Yes?”

“Hardison has a program that sifts through potential candidates, and we don’t go after every one that even makes the cut from that. Too many people, not enough us. We’re not above tipping off the proper authorities anonymously if it’s something urgent, though we try not to do that too often.”

“So what do you do when you’re not doing that?”

“Cook in the pub’s kitchen, drive the executive chef crazy trying out new things,” Eliot said, smiling. “Work out, watch movies, read books, spend time with Hardison and Parker, live normal. Well, as normal as I can.”

“Oh.” Geoffrey got out of the truck, looking as though he was mulling over what he’d been told. Eliot exited the truck and met his brother at the back bumper.

“Look,” Geoffrey began, “not that going to the museum wouldn’t be cool, but I should probably not do that today. Why don’t you go and do whatever without me and Zack, and we’ll meet up for dinner?”

Eliot looked at his brother, certain he was planning something.

“Zack’s been home by himself for two hours,” Geoffrey elaborated. “Moment I walk through the door, he’s going to be Mr. Bouncy. I’d rather we burned off that energy going for a walk around the neighborhood than anywhere else.”

At Eliot’s continued stare, Geoffrey tried to bluff, then sighed when Eliot didn’t budge. “Man, I forgot you have that look that asks for everything,” Geoffrey said, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. I think you need to go do anything other than be with me and Zack. You’ve been acting weird since we came back. You slept for more than ninety minutes two nights in a row and you actually saw a doctor.”

“I like Nicole,” Eliot objected.

“Uh huh,” Geoffrey said. “If I had to guess, she’s someone who knows better where you’ve been than your average doctor. But my point stands. Go, shoo.” He softened his words with a brief hug before turning towards the elevator.

Eliot waited until he couldn’t see his brother before turning towards the stairs up to the ground floor. The pub was a ten-minute walk away from his condo. The back door to the second-floor apartment above the pub from the parking lot side had a double deadbolt entry, and the circular staircase from where the Leverage team often conducted their cases now had a secured door blocking access to the hallway that split the floor into apartment and miscellaneous storage. Hardison had insisted on installing better security and making renovations after discovering one of the brewpub’s now-former employees had ‘borrowed’ the space as a crash pad and trashed everything Nate had left behind.

Now, Eliot appreciated that the renovation meant that he couldn’t hear the noise of the pub below. The second floor, which had been partially renovated when Nate had lived there, had been more fully renovated into an oversized one-bedroom apartment with an open floor plan, and an additional story that was part Hardison’s server room, part workout studio. The renovation had turned the not-quite-an-apartment into a luxury home, with hardwood flooring in most of the apartment; a U-shaped, well-equipped kitchen with a breakfast bar and quartz countertops; a bathroom with a tiled shower big enough to fit three people, a king-sized bedroom with a fireplace, and enough storage that the three of them could live comfortably. Hardison had even gotten the contractor to wire an emergency generator separate from the pub’s wiring so that they could withstand the occasional power outages Portland sometimes experienced due to windstorms and heavy rain.

For a moment, Eliot allowed his paranoia to hold sway, even as a part of his brain recognized he was alone and it would be difficult for someone to have gotten into the apartment. The living, dining, and kitchen areas were one large open space, defined by furniture groupings and the kitchen counter/breakfast bar, allowing Eliot clear line of sight to the back wall. Eliot could smell the faux citrus scent of the cleaner Hardison favored, and saw that the kitchen and living areas had been picked up, swept, and cleaned. The teal queen-size quilt they sometimes cuddled under while sitting on the sofa or took turns using as a blanket was neatly folded over the back of the L-shaped sectional. Hardison had even stacked the remotes for the videogame console on the coffee table. Hardison had even tidied up his mess on the large, bookcase-framed table that served as his home desk. Eliot smiled at the sight, aware that Hardison was insistent about doing the weekly cleaning and had even gotten Parker into the habit. The bedroom was empty and the king-size bed somewhat messily made, but at least the covers and pillows weren’t on the floor. Eliot had learned to count that as a win. Even the door to the giant walk-in closet was shut.

Assured by all those clues that everything was as it should be for a Friday morning when they had no job, Eliot moved forward with his personal agenda. He knew it was psychological, but he acknowledged that going to the doctor and having to lie still for an MRI – even an open MRI with a doctor who promptly provided results – never failed to make him feel like he needed a shower. Nicole had chastised him for not noticing he’d broken a rib; it had healed well, but she’d still cautioned him to be more careful in the future.

Grabbing a change of clothes from the drawers in the walk-in closet, Eliot then undressed, dumping his clothes in the hamper just outside the bathroom door. Naked, he stepped into the shower, turning on the water to hot, and pulling the semi-transparent glass shower door closed. The fan in the bathroom was superefficient, capturing the steam before it could fill the bathroom. The bathroom mirror, which stretched over the double vanity, was made of specially treated glass so it would never fog. Eliot especially liked the fact that in this apartment, he’d never run out of hot water, thanks to the tankless water heater that had gotten installed as part of the renovation.

He let his thoughts go blank as he went through the routine of getting clean. For the moment, there was nothing more important than hot water, unscented shea butter soap, and the pricey-but-worth-it organic shampoo Hardison had gotten Eliot addicted to using. He closed his eyes and let the routine – and the feel of the water on his skin – soothe him.

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see Parker waiting for him, a fluffy towel in hand, when he shut off the water and pulled open the door.

“Hi,” Parker said, thrusting the towel at him, then leaning carefully in to kiss him.

Mindful that she didn’t like getting wet, Eliot returned the kiss before breaking it to dry off. “Thought you weren’t going to be here until later tonight.”

Parker shrugged. “Got to the conference and realized I wasn’t dressed right. They were all snooty executive women and –” she gestured to her typical leggings-and-tunic outfit. “Forgot that the invite went to Julie Turner.”

Eliot nodded, recognizing it as an alias for one of Parker’s more high-powered-executive identities. “Didn’t feel up to challenging their notions on what a female leader should dress like?”

Parker wrinkled her nose. “No. They made me angry, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone. How come you’re home?”

“My brother got tired of me being around,” Eliot said as he hung the towel on the rack at the far end of the shower. “And I wanted to be clean.”

Parker smiled. “Good. I missed you. Want to have sex?”

Eliot would never tire of his lover’s blunt approach. He didn’t need to know her history to surmise consent was a huge deal to her. It was for him, and he loved that she didn’t try to seduce him or play games. “Yes. What did you have in mind?” he asked her now.

Parker’s smile turned mischievous and she quickly stripped off her clothes. “You in me, in bed, no more talking except directions.”

Never one to hesitate when the woman he loved wanted him to make love with her, Eliot did exactly as she requested. He loved moments like this, when he could be alone with her, just as much as he loved being alone with Hardison. It didn’t change the thrill he got when he got to be with both of them at the same time. Parker seemed to be in no hurry, as she often was, and let him linger over her. If she were any other woman, Eliot would’ve called what they were doing seduction or foreplay. Because it was Parker, Eliot called it relearning her body, putting to memory the way she arched and breathed and reacted to every touch, every caress, every kiss, every stroke. Because it was Parker, Eliot watched for any sign she wasn’t enjoying what he was doing, and cherished every moment when he found none. Because it was Parker, she noticed him noticing, and returned the favor until they both became lost in pleasure.

In the afterglow, Parker cuddled close, and Eliot savored the feeling of holding her. She didn’t always let him hold her right after sex; sometimes she would leap out of bed, overstimulated by affection, and hide for a while. Both he and Hardison had learned to let her be on those times; she always came back eventually.

“You’re worried,” she said, tracing a random pattern on his chest.

Eliot knew trying to keep anything from a woman who studied patterns to break into secured spaces was impossible, but he thought he could distract her from the real problem going through his head. He wasn’t ready yet to ask her about commitment and it didn’t feel right to do so without Hardison. “Keep thinking that maybe I did a wrong thing, asking Geoffrey to move out here.”

“Because someone might see him and mistake him for you?”

Eliot let out a breath. “Yeah.”

Parker sat up; Eliot did the same. “Whoever would hurt you would find anyone you cared about if they could be used as leverage, no matter where they were,” she said bluntly. “At least this way you’d know sooner what happened and could do something about it.”

Eliot closed his eyes briefly, acknowledging that truth, before leaning in to kiss her. “Thanks,” he said, smiling crookedly.

Parker shrugged and moved off the bed to get dressed. “Did you want to watch the feed with me or did you want to be alone?” she asked.

Eliot pulled on his underwear and jeans as he considered. Parker liked to spend Friday afternoons watching the pub’s security feed; Eliot sometimes joined her in her casual assessment of the bar’s patrons and making up stories about them. As much as their lovemaking had reassured him she still wanted him, Eliot knew he hadn’t gotten the distance or the space to think he’d wanted. “I’ll join you in a bit,” he compromised.

Parker brightened at that promise and stole a kiss before exiting the bedroom. For a long, mindless moment seeped in the echoes of her love, Eliot stared at the point where she’d gone before he shook himself and put on his shirt. He had some thinking to do, and he wouldn’t get it done sitting here.

He made his way down to the pub’s kitchen, greeting the staff, checking in to see how they were doing, and then pitching in to get the crew out of the weeds thanks to an unexpectedly busier-than-usual lunch crowd. The rhythm of the kitchen soothed his soul in a way nothing else ever did, and when the rush was over, he headed out.

Within walking distance of the pub, there was a park overlooking the river that Eliot liked to sit in when he wanted to be alone and think. Most people didn’t know it existed, and Eliot liked it that way; it meant the tourists weren’t clamoring over it, barging into his space.

 _All right, Eliot_ , he told himself, _time to stop pretending everything’s okay, because it isn’t. Think. What do you want? What are the risks if you do nothing?_

If he did nothing, nothing would change – at least, not at first. Eliot knew his partners were too observant not to notice he was holding back. He’d been on the receiving end of someone withholding information once too often to not know how dissatisfaction with that situation would only grow and fester. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that to Hardison and Parker, not when they’d repeatedly risked themselves for him.

That left him back to the fact he wanted to stash them somewhere safe, but as the situation with his brother had proven, safe was relative. Besides that, Parker and Hardison would never stand for any kind of protective custody, so where did that leave him? And why, if he trusted Parker and Hardison to be exactly who he loved them to be, did he fear asking them about where they were going as a romantic trio?

Eliot closed his eyes briefly and swore. He couldn’t blame everything on the assassin, hitter-for-hire, morals-be-damned man he’d been, though it was sorely tempting. He hadn’t been that man by choice for far longer than he’d been that soulless, do-anything-for-a-price monster. Last he checked, his enemies – those that were still alive – appeared to be perfectly content to leave him be. So what the hell was he so afraid of?

_Losing them will kill me._

_You thought the same of Geoffrey when Marie died_ , he reminded himself.  _Look at him now._

 _But you’re not your brother_ , that contrary voice in his head reminded him. _And he had heart surgery, so he almost died, technically speaking. That counts._

Eliot scowled at the direction of his thoughts, and decided the only way forward was to sit down and talk to Hardison and Parker. If he sat here any longer, he was going to drive himself crazy, and be no further along than he’d been. Rising to his feet, he took one last look at the river, and headed back to the pub.


	10. Chapter 10

Hardison would never admit how much his volunteer time at the food bank meant to him, but he was aware that it helped offset the vague sense that he wasn’t doing enough. After finishing his morning shift, he got lunch from one of the food trucks in the park not far from the pub, then made his way over to the apartment. Like Eliot, he took the time to take a shower, not wanting to smell like someone who’d been lifting boxes and sorting surplus food for distribution. Conscious he’d be meeting Zack and Geoffrey later, Hardison chose to wear one of his favorite science-themed T-shirts and a clean pair of jeans. Since he’d known he would be limited on what he could bring with him to the food bank, Hardison had opted to leave his laptop at home. Now he brought it out of its hiding place in the secure cabinet behind a false row of books in the bookcase, intending to catch up on everything he’d missed that morning. He smiled at himself as he reset the shelf; he would never stop getting a small thrill out of knowing he had a secret shelf just like one of his favorite movie characters. He grabbed a bottle of orange soda from the fridge, exited the apartment, locking the door behind himself, then headed downstairs via the circular staircase.

He arrived in the pub’s back room to see Parker was watching the monitors and munching on popcorn. “See anything you like?” he asked after kissing her hello. He noted she’d rearranged the furniture; instead of single recliner in front of the monitor, she’d put the whole sectional in front of the screen, and surmised she was anticipating that he and Eliot would join her.

“Eliot’s helping with the lunch rush, but it’s nearly over,” Parker announced, pointing him out on the monitor. “And Mr. and Mrs. Midday Friday are back, but they’re early.”

“That the couple who come in every week after lunch and before dinner?”

“Yep. She’s dressed like Sophie would dress.”

Hardison glanced at the monitor as he took a seat on the couch next to Parker. The woman in question was indeed dressed in a very sophisticated, upscale outfit; her companion was in a suit coat – more evening cocktails than a midafternoon meal at gastropub. Hardison estimated the couple’s age to be late seventies, maybe early eighties, and thought they looked adorable. “Ah, they’re probably don’t know you don’t need to dress that fancy.”

Parker wrinkled her nose. “They’re cute, in an old people way. Do you think they’re dating?”

“Maybe,” Hardison allowed. He looked at the monitor again and amended, “Or they’re just old romantics.” He returned his focus to his search programs, ignoring the way Parker was studying the couple. While he, Parker, and Eliot were all on Interpol’s and FBI’s wanted lists, most of the alerts concerning them were old enough that only the most dedicated agent with more free time and funding than the average agent would consider going after them. Hardison liked to make sure that status didn’t suddenly change. He also checked the status of his search for new clients, and saw that the thresholds had been met for six possible new clients.

“Did Eliot say he’d be coming back after lunch was over?” Hardison asked Parker.

“He said he’d join me later, didn’t say when. He’s worried about something, but it’s not what he told me.”

Hardison looked up from his keyboard at that. “What did he say it was?”

“About how if you just glance at Geoffrey, you could mistake him for Eliot.”

“Ah,” Hardison said. He tapped a few more keys to save the potential clients to a folder for review, then moved on to check his newsfeed and social media accounts, scanning through the lot for keywords. “But you don’t think that’s the problem. If it was, he wouldn’t have moved Geoffrey and Zack here.”

“Duh,” Parker said, glaring at Hardison like he was stupid. “Of course it isn’t. You need to talk to him, figure it out.”

“Me?” Hardison gestured to himself. “Why me?”

“Because you haven’t had sex with him yet since he came back,” Parker said. She eyed the monitor that showed the back door to the pub. “If we both go after him, he’ll wonder if we want something, just like last time. But you’re going to have to wait until he comes back to do it.”

Hardison heaved a sigh as he caught sight of Eliot leaving the building. “I don’t know, Parker. He didn’t look that kind of happy.”

“So make him be,” Parker said. “I don’t like it when he’s not.”

“I don’t either, babe.” Hardison rewound the video of Eliot leaving and didn’t like the way the other man was holding himself, as if braced for an impact. “Did he say anything about meeting someone?”

Parker shook her head, then at Hardison’s look, amended her wordless statement with, “I didn’t ask.”

It was nearly four o’clock by the time Eliot returned. Parker, who’d been watching for him, poked Hardison to alert him. He’d been deep in research for his personal favorite of the six possible cases. “Hey!” Hardison said reflexively, and glared at her.

In reply, she gestured to the security monitor that showed Eliot had chosen to head up to the apartment rather than join them downstairs. Hardison took the cue, saved his work, and logged off the computer.

“What time’s dinner with Geoffrey and Zack?” he asked.

“Six-thirty,” Parker replied.

Hardison glanced at his watch. “I’ll make sure we’re on time.” He kissed her in lieu of goodbye and headed up to the apartment. He knew that he had a small window in which to seduce Eliot before the other man became obsessed with timing his cooking so that everything was done at the same time.

Stepping into the apartment, he found Eliot already peering into the fridge.

“Hey,” Hardison said casually. “Thought you already had dinner set up. You mentioned something about a pot roast in the slow cooker?”

Eliot shut the fridge. “Parker distracted me so now I have to figure out something else.”

Hardison studied the other man a moment, then leaned in to kiss him. Eliot allowed the kiss for a moment, then gently pushed Hardison back. “I have to figure this out.”

“So do that roast Bombay chicken in a pot thing you did a while back,” Hardison suggested.

“That why there’s a whole uncooked chicken in the fridge?”

Hardison spread his hands. “I might’ve been thinking you should make that sometime in the next week when I put in the grocery order for your place. Figured since I was ordering, I might as well pick up stuff for here too, and I know you don’t like it when I order stuff for dishes you aren’t going to cook. Figured that one was safe enough to use since it’s all ingredients you’d want to have anyway.”

Eliot made a scoffing sound and scowled, but Hardison wasn’t fooled anymore by his lover’s growl.

Mindful that the kitchen was Eliot’s, Hardison asked, “You want help or should I just stay out of the way?”

Eliot considered the offer, then glanced at his watch and calculated time. “Parker still downstairs?”

“She figured you and I needed some time alone.”

Eliot froze. “Why?”

Hardison closed the distance. “Because you haven’t been home and you and I haven’t really been alone together in a while? Now, way I figure it, we have maybe thirty minutes before you actually have to start prepping and cooking, so we could have some fun?”

Eliot let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “She worried?”

“You know how she tries hard to make sure we get private time so it doesn’t feel unbalanced.”

Eliot nodded.

Hardison added, “And I know you don’t like to have sex in the kitchen, so do you want to move to the couch or the bedroom?”

“Bedroom, but later,” Eliot countered. “Let me get dinner into the oven first.”

Hardison accepted the compromise, and stayed out of the kitchen except to fetch ingredients for the oven-roasted chicken dish, which had tikka masala spices, spinach, onions, fenugreek, coriander, ginger, potatoes, and coconut milk. It was one of Hardison’s favorites out of the vast repertoire of dishes Eliot cooked, and he told Eliot so.

“Reminds me of the roast chicken Nana used to make on Sundays, but better – hers was plain and simple, nothing but salt and pepper and butter.”

Eliot chuckled at that. “Nothing wrong with those ingredients.”

“I like how this smells better,” Hardison said. “Reminds me of this awesome market in Mumbai. Ever been to India?”

Eliot replied, “Once or twice. Almost ran into Sophie apparently.”

Hardison barked a laugh. “Probably better for both of you that you didn’t meet before.”

Once the pot was in the oven, Hardison looked at his watch. The dish would cook for an hour and a half, which gave them plenty of time.

Neither man wasted time getting undressed, but something was different about Eliot. He seemed reluctant to rush, lingering as if he wanted to savor the moment.

“Hey,” Hardison said softly. “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m not fragile.”

Eliot kissed him. “I know, but I missed you.”

Hardison’s eyes widened. It was rare for Eliot to admit that. “I missed you too,” he said and kissed him reassuringly. “I’m here and you’re here now, so –” He smiled crookedly. “We got time. What do you want?”

“Let me drive,” he said.

“Okay,” Hardison agreed, willing to let his lover take charge.

Eliot kissed him and then proceeded to spend the next several minutes driving him into the heights of passion with his mouth and hands. No man in Hardison’s experience should be that talented, no matter how many times Eliot showed him. It didn’t help that Eliot was being especially maddening, using every bit of knowledge of Hardison’s body to turn him on, and weaving into it an edge of unexpected depth, as if he needed to demonstrate just how much he loved being with Hardison like this. Hardison was certain it was illegal to be that skilled, but he wasn’t about to complain too much unless Eliot didn’t let him over that sweet edge of desire now, damn it.

Hardison wasn’t even aware he’d vocalized that last thought until Eliot smiled, slid into him, said, “As you wish, love,” and sent them both careening over that cliff.

Hardison looked up at Eliot, braced over him, and managed to push up on his elbows to kiss him before flopping back down to the bed.

Eliot grinned and moved to dispose of the condom in the trash can by the bed, lifting off Hardison’s body just enough to do so. When he shifted back down, Hardison reached up to hold him.

“Hey. What was that about?”

Eliot looked at him like he was stupid, but Hardison had learned to read him. Eliot spoke volumes in silences; what he didn’t say was just as vital as what he did.

“Besides the obvious,” Hardison clarified. “You just quoted _The Princess Bride_ to me. What did Geoffrey say to you?”

Eliot hesitated a moment before closing his eyes and admitting, “He thought I should be more declarative. Didn’t like I didn’t say I love you to you and Parker when we were on the videocall.”

Hardison rolled his eyes and tightened his embrace when he felt Eliot flinch in response. “Like we don’t know how you feel.” He watched Eliot’s eyes widen, and kissed him. “You tell me every time you yell at me for being stupid, every time you try to swap out my orange soda for orange-flavored water, every time you touch me like you did just now. I’ve been hearing you for years. Pretty sure Parker has too.”

Eliot stared him. “You don’t need the words?”

Hardison half-smiled. “Sometimes, not because you feel obligated, especially since I’ve learned you save words like that for when you need to say them. Now what else is on your mind?”

Eliot took a deep breath. “I love you, Hardison. Can’t imagine my life without you and Parker.”

“And that terrifies you.”

Eliot nodded. “When the rigging failed on our last job and I had to catch Parker because she fell –”

Hardison eyed him. “She swore she must’ve kicked you by accident. Did she?”

“Cracked a rib,” Eliot confirmed.

“That why you saw Nicole this morning?” Hardison asked.

Eliot nodded. “Didn’t think it was that bad until she showed me the MRI and where it had healed.”

Hardison kissed him slowly. When Eliot had relaxed enough that the wariness had left his eyes, Hardison ended the kiss and said, “I love you and I’m not going to leave you. Not unless you tell me we’re done and I’ll probably argue with you even then. We good?”

“Do you want anything more than that?” Eliot asked quietly.

“What? We got a home here, don’t need more than that long as we’re together.”

“Not even marriage?”

Startled by that, Hardison took a moment to study his lover. “Not when it would scare Parker,” he said. “Thought you knew that she associates that with bad things.”

Eliot closed his eyes briefly. “Guessed, wasn’t sure, and then I just –”

“Started thinking about how long we’ve been together,” Hardison surmised. He kissed Eliot. “I did the same thing a few weeks after we saw Nate propose to Sophie.”

Eliot narrowed his eyes, looking as though he was flipping through his mental file of memories. “That why you spent three days holed up playing video games like they were going out of style and neither Parker or me couldn’t get you to stop?”

Hardison nodded. “Yeah. Then I walked out and saw you were up in Parker’s rigging, asleep with her, and hit me: I didn’t want to do anything to fuck up what I had with you and her, because what we had was good and it could only get better.” He kissed Eliot reassuringly. “And it has. I never dreamed of a white picket-fence happily-ever-after, not after everything I’ve done. Finding someone who’d share the crazy life I lead, complete with the secrecy and the paranoia and the need to keep one eye peeled – I didn’t know I could have _two_ someones, let alone one. That’s more than what a bisexual guy like me could dream of, you know? Geeks like me don’t get that kind of happy ending, but now I got it, I don’t want anything less.”

“Yeah,” Eliot agreed. “You don’t want something more, uh, visible?”

“What, like rings like married people?” Hardison shrugged. “Stopped thinking about it when I saw how Parker reacted to the wedding job and how she seemed to associate people being married with people not committing to her. We could do a commitment ceremony if it matters that much to you to have that, but I don’t need it to know you’d do anything for us.”

“I don’t need it either,” Parker announced, startling both men, and causing them to break their embrace.

Standing at the foot of the bed, she looked surprised at their surprise. “What? You were taking too long and I wanted to see you both naked.”

Eliot surged forward and kissed her. “Love you, Parker, don’t change.”

She smiled smugly. “Why would I?” she asked.

Eliot looked at Hardison and he read the wordless question in his eyes. All too happy to oblige in the plan to seduce their girlfriend, Hardison reached for Parker as Eliot did the same.

Parker stepped neatly out of reach. “Rain check! Geoffrey called and said they’d be here in ten.”

“Later then,” Eliot promised her huskily.

She nodded and left the bedroom, though not before stroking both of them teasingly. Groaning, both men staggered to the bathroom for their second showers of the day. Parker followed, picking up their scattered clothing and bringing fresh underwear for both of them. She waited in the bathroom while they showered, as if to make sure they stayed on track. When they stepped out, she had towels waiting for both of them.

“You’re wrong, you know, about why I don’t like weddings,” she told Hardison and Eliot. “You already love me. What do I need with a wedding and rings? Nobody ever let me be normal,” she spat the word ‘normal,’ “so why I should I get married like they do?”

“Then we won’t,” Eliot assured her as he dried off. “I just wanted to be sure you were okay with the way things are.”

She studied Eliot a long moment before leaning over to kiss him. “I am,” she said firmly. “But if you need more, tell us. Don’t run away and hide. I don’t know what to do when you do that.”

Eliot squared his shoulders. “I’d like a commitment ceremony between the three of us. Maybe it’s nothing legally but –”

“ – but nothing,” Hardison interrupted, quickly drying off and turning to face him. “You know we can make anything happen. This means a lot to you.”

Eliot nodded. “I can’t explain why.”

“Because it’s the closest thing to being married we can get,” Parker summarized. “That why you got all wound up and not wanting to talk to us?”

Eliot let out a breath. “Yeah. Geoffrey calling me reminded me that he’d lost his wife to cancer six months ago. They were the best example of happily married I knew. He passed out in shock when he was told she was dead. Turned out he also had a heart murmur. I just –” he let out another breath and started to get dressed. “Got reminded that I’ve always wanted something like what they had.”

Parker and Hardison nodded understandingly.

“Didn’t think I’d get it,” Eliot added. “So if a commitment ceremony’s the closest we can get, you okay with that? I mean, do you want me like that? I don’t know if it changes anything but I just…need this.”

“Yes,” Parker said as Hardison echoed her.

“We’ll tell your brother a much more romantic version,” Hardison added as he got dressed. “Like you proposed over lunch, not half-naked in the bathroom.”

Eliot chuckled. “Good idea. Don’t tell Geoffrey or Zack just yet, though,” Eliot cautioned. “Not until we’ve figured out how to make it happen.”

Hardison acknowledged that with a nod as Parker did the same.

Parker waited until they were both dressed before she kissed them both in turn, then looked to Eliot. “Anything else got you worried?”

“Just dinner and not burning it,” he said, smiling.

* * *

Eliot was relieved to know his lovers were on the same page. In hindsight, he felt a little ridiculous having spent so much time worrying about whether they were committed to him and their relationship, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on that feeling. After Geoffrey and Zack were gone, Eliot knew they’d talk again, since Hardison would undoubtedly have found the time to run a search and figure out who could perform a commitment ceremony. Eliot wasn’t worried about the details just yet; they had time. What mattered more was that Parker and Hardison were willing to go down that path with him. Knowing that, he felt more at ease as he finished the preparations for dinner. Hardison set the table while Parker went down to greet Geoffrey and Zack and escort them up to the apartment. For the moment, everything in Eliot’s life was going exactly the way he wanted them to be, and he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bombay roast chicken: https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/pot-roast-bombay-chicken
> 
> Shoutout to Jess Moskaluke's "Past the Past", which helped me break my block on this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, constructive criticism, suggestions, and kudos always welcome, no matter the age of the fic. ~~Also: updating is random, so please subscribe!~~


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